A Staircase in the Darkness
by Alice Elliot
Summary: A certain case brings two partners from "awkwardly-in-love-and-refusing-to-acknowledge-it" to lovers. Just what did it take to force Hisoka and Tsuzuki across that giant gap? You may not be able to guess from a mere glance at the paperwork. Tsusoka
1. Prologue

A/N: This is going to be my first attempt at writing a story with actual plot progression, so please do let me know how I'm doing! This will have spoilers for up to the Kyoto arc only (I think). Enjoy!

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><p><strong>A Staircase in the Darkness<strong>

**Prologue**

The door shut with a heavy thud, followed by that characteristic _click_. Tatsumi's eyes lingered on it for only a brief moment before they slid down to eye the manila folder that had just been deposited on his desk. It looked innocent enough, for all of the nervousness and awkward reluctance Hisoka had left it there with. It was enough that one would think he had been handing off his personal diary, or something of equal privacy, not a simple report on fieldwork.

His hand twitched a little, vaguely in the direction of said folder. No, newly filed reports went to the end of the pile, to be processed once the older ones were out of the way. That's how business worked in Juuouchou, just as it must in any orderly office. Yes, order was a necessary part of the work place. Regardless of this personal mantra of his, the secretary's hand had reached the folder and quickly flicked it open before he stopped himself, eyes seemingly impassive as they scanned the paper within. Everything else about his work, his office, and his desk was in perfect order, after all. It could hardly cause great harm simply to take a quick glance at the report in advance, after all. Just to review it for errors or omissions, naturally.

It had nothing to do with the massive change in atmosphere between the two partners since returning from the case detailed in the file (and he quietly hoped it would be _excruciatingly_ detailed … but for business reasons only, of course). He had seen the signs himself, and heard rumors of even more unusual occurrences. This case was the only possible explanation, and something was definitely up with it. For one thing, Hisoka had turned in the paperwork on the last day that it could possibly still be considered on time, something almost unthinkably inconsistent with his previously displayed work ethic. His behavior as he handed it over only added to the mystery.

Attention now firmly fixed on the paper in question, Tatsumi quickly scanned the cleanly written words, turning the page only to find the opposite side blank. The case had not been brief, nor had it been simple, and yet he had written so much less than his usual standard? The secretary glared at the offending sheet, mind turning. Well, perhaps even the little he had written would provide insight into whatever had happened.

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><p><strong>Case 2-137-12, Fieldwork Report<strong>

**Employees deployed:** Tsuzuki Asato, Kurosaki Hisoka

**Date arrived on sight:** 3/12/99

**Date returned:** 3/19/99

**Location:** Fukuoka City, Kyuushuu region

**Cause for investigation:** Several souls not yet scheduled to die showed up in Meifu, as a result of a series of apparent suicides occurring across Fukuoka. Suspiciously occult-esque similarities were found between the suicides, and so the Shoukan division was called in.

**Case status:** Closed

**Summary of the case:** Upon investigation of the deceased's living quarters, several similarities not at first apparent came to light. For one, each victim seemed to have a passion for music. Most notably, however, they all had similar CDs of recorded piano music within their stereo systems, all created by the same man. We first investigated this man, Adrian Mann, a half-German who had spent the last few years of his life in Fukuoka. At the time, though, we deemed him not to be a suspect.

Continuing to look into the similarities between victims, we ran through a series of other suspicious parties. (Here, something has been erased and written over. It's now sadly illegible.) Over time, it became apparent that none of the leads were taking the case any further. After _discussing_ it with my partner (the word "discussing" is rather disjointed, muddled by the remains of previous words that appear to have been furiously erased and written atop of), I returned to Adrian Mann's apartment, where I discovered key articles of evidence suggesting his guilt. However, he also turned out to hold spiritual ability, and discovered my intrusion, despite that I had taken the precaution of going while in spirit form. He was unable to properly wield said ability, and after a relatively harmless encounter, we were able to apprehend the suspect. As such, this case has been closed and there should be no more casualties.

**Signature of employee filing report:** Kurosaki Hisoka

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><p>Tatsumi's eyebrow twitched as he placed the paper back down, the quiet thud of the manila folder closing around it again both emphatic and laced with disappointment. Not only did the report fail to explain what had happened between the partners, it was filled with obvious gaps that made the summary nothing short of illogical. Frankly, it answered fewer questions than it opened up. <em>No wonder Kurosaki-kun was so nervous about handing this in<em>, he thought, exasperated. _I should really request a re-write of this, or write him up for omitting potentially important information._

Of course, the secretary had merely been reviewing the file. It hadn't even been processed yet, he reminded himself, nor had the Chief seen it. And besides, he could already acknowledge that he would not be doing either of those things. He had an unfortunate habit of respecting someone's privacy once he considered them a friend.

Of course, this also sadly meant that Tsuzuki's report would be his last chance to reach an understanding of the bizarre shift, and hopefully actually understand their case. He sighed, turning to file the folder into its proper place.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks to my friend Thursday for beta reading! The chapters will probably stay about this length (or longer) from now on. (Although I'm afraid they won't all be posted so quickly, as I had this one prepared already, haha) As usual, I'll welcome any suggestions, so all reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

**A Staircase in the Darkness**

**Chapter One**

Sound strained from tired speakers, one note falling out into the chilled air at a time. Background noise from the recording causing only slight distortion, each sound was like a drop of water on a man's parched throat, like a light rain after a drought. At last, though, the clouds grew oppressive, and the piano seemed to explode in a torrent, the playing suddenly frenzied, almost mad. No rest came, now, no relief; the piano seemed to be despair itself, closing in on the listener, wrapping tightly around and refusing to let go.

Fortunately, or perhaps more rightly unfortunately, the masterpiece of emotion fell only on unhearing ears. Perhaps, though, the sound could carry far enough through the windows, left wide open despite the unwelcoming winter temperature.

The music at last tapered out, the insanity of the piece calming only as it met with the very end. And even then, was peace afforded to the uneasiness of those affected by it? There was no answer on the cold lips of the only audience member.

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><p>It was one of those days when it was certainly <em>bright<em> outside, but the air still managed to be bitingly cold. Hisoka particularly disliked those days, because they didn't even have the advantage of clouds covering that offensively bright object, nevermind that it should at least snow if it was going to be this cold anyways. Drawing his coat more tightly around himself, the young man kept his eyes trained on the sidewalk pavement as he weaved through the crowd. He knew that his partner had fallen behind, enthralled with the sight of a bakery's display of freshly baked blueberry muffins, and while he was not particularly irked at the man as of yet, he also did not want to encourage such behavior by waiting for him.

As expected, quick, thudding footsteps soon approached from behind him, and the smiling face of his partner peeked over his shoulder. Tsuzuki was radiating a nauseatingly thick layer of pleasant emotion, his thoughts insistently filled with the image of those muffins, still warm from the oven. He wanted to pretend the case they'd just been assigned wasn't bothering him, and Hisoka wasn't going to be fooled for a second. He scowled unwittingly, an unpleasant tangle of his own emotions rising in his chest.

"Hisoka! I almost lost you!" There was that distinctive whine inflected into his voice, but the smile was still pasted on his face.

Looking at his feet again, Hisoka moved insistently forward, nearly deciding to ignore the words entirely. "Then don't stay behind without even saying anything," he replied after taking a few steps, nothing but indifference in his voice.

Tsuzuki's face only fell for a moment before he smiled again, gesturing emphatically. "Alright, alright! I just couldn't help myself!"

All Hisoka could manage for that one was a disdainful shake of his head, his feet still on the move. Weren't things supposed to be different by now? Shouldn't Tsuzuki trust him enough to actually talk about it when he was bothered? He almost wanted to shout at the older man, because he was the one being left behind here. Why would he even go so far as to try and conceal it from his empathy? _Say something._ But he wouldn't, and Hisoka knew that. Maybe it was the full moon soon, though, if he was having such… dramatic thoughts about it. Determined not to mind it so much, Hisoka huffed quietly, disappointed to see a cloud of white exhale from his mouth as he did. It sure was cold.

They were heading to the scene of the most recent death in the string they'd been briefed on, intending to investigate it while in spirit form. It had been long enough that the police were no longer on the scene, and they likely wouldn't have confiscated anything, because there were no signs indicating a homicide. A simple depraved suicide, society would write it off as.

And in just such a case, the interference of the Shoukan division was needed. The man who had taken his own life two nights ago had been the fourth to do so within the past month, just within Fukuoka City. And each suicide had been strikingly precise, with each person dying after slicing open both carotid arteries in their necks. This killing strike only was performed, however, after each man had administered several smaller cuts, using the blood shed from the subsequent wounds to leave a range of disturbing messages, different between each person, yet with a disturbing underlying similarity. The deaths weren't attracting much public attention, of course, because only disreputable magazines would print something so outrageous about deaths that were clearly suicides. The knives used had been left clutched in the man's hand each time, and there was absolutely no sign of struggle or forced entry. It would seem there was no reason to investigate, from a mortal point of view. Whether for better or worse, though, the powers that be in Juuouchou felt differently.

At the very least, that's what Hisoka had understood from the briefing he and his partner had received just earlier that morning. It seemed almost ironically designed to pull up the darkness in Tsuzuki's heart that was just barely buried, even if they had determined, together, to live. Both of them were troubled by it, and there was no way he couldn't acknowledge that… But he was still pretending. Hisoka balled his hands into fists, sinking them deeply into the refuge of his pockets.

"…Hisoka?"

At his partner's inquisitive voice, he turned towards the source, only to find a bemused and concerned stare directed at him. "What?"

"This is the place, isn't it? Tatsuya-san's apartment building?" Tsuzuki gestured at the tall building he'd stopped in front of. Following the direction, Hisoka saw that it was indeed the address they'd been looking for. He must have been a lot more out of it than he'd wanted to admit. Sighing, he turned outright before trudging forward to meet his partner again.

"What are you waiting for, then?" He stubbornly met the man's worry with the irritated question, wordlessly shifting to his spirit form while under sufficient cover from the crowd. Despite wanting to ask, Tsuzuki recognized the act to mean that they weren't going to be talking about it; not now, at least. He followed suit.

Without even footsteps to give them away, the two were soon stepping through the door to Room 412, paying no mind whatsoever to the notification pinned to said door warning against intrusion. The inside was cramped, a living room and a kitchen merged as was popular with apartments, to save on space. The carpet was still stained a rusty color, and the whole place smelled of a vaguely unpleasant mix of death and air freshener. Hisoka felt mildly nauseous, not just from the scent, but also from the lingering air of oppressive feeling. It was dizzying, a spiral of despair that seemed like it could only lead into sheer madness. What could have caused this? No outstanding event had happened lately to this Tatsuya that would seem enough to trigger this, at least from their records.

It was only with great effort that Hisoka shook off the train of dispersed emotion permeating the place, and he stepped forward silently to examine the contents of the writing desk. He could hear Tsuzuki behind him, checking out the living room area. Trying not to think about much, yet concentrate at the same time, he forced himself to flip through the arrangement of notes and books on the desk: a daily planner, a contact list, and a book on music theory; nothing particularly out of the ordinary about any of them. The last entry in the daily planner was from about a week ago, simply noting that he had attended a music recital. They had already known that Tatsuya had been an amateur musician, so none of this came as a surprise.

"The stereo was left on," Tsuzuki mumbled idly from behind him. Curious, and frankly bored with his own findings, the younger man turned to look where Tsuzuki was, fumbling with the digital CD player. The CD had long ago finished, naturally, but no one had taken notice and turned it off, the green light still blinking insistently. Before either of them had processed the natural thought—had it been playing when he'd died, then?—one of the buttons was compressing under Tsuzuki's finger unintentionally, and the music had started up.

As soon as the first note reached Hisoka's ears, waves of emotion hit him. They were controlled at first, and not outright painful. And yet somehow it felt like the sound itself was reaching within him, curling its way into his brain, filling his being. When the slow notes that seemed to trickle ceased, he felt only an instant of relief before a crash. The playing was relentless, and he felt as if the very madness that had driven the man to suicide was invading him; a hand grasped at his throat, as if confirming the blood still pulsed under the skin, that it hadn't just been released anew over the carpet, already stained. His vision was swimming, all of his senses seeming numb compared to the onslaught of raw feeling.

Then, suddenly, there was nothing there. It felt at once immensely relieving, and also as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath his feet. It took him a long moment to realize, first, that he had doubled over, his head cradled desperately in his hands, and that he was hyperventilating. Trying to soothe the panic and slow his breathing, he then looked up to see that Tsuzuki had been the one to shut off the stereo, and was now hovering nearby, his face the very picture of concern.

"Hisoka?" His hand outstretched, Tsuzuki stopped himself just before he could place it on Hisoka's shoulder. The touch probably wouldn't be appreciated, particularly not when his own feelings weren't very peaceful. "Are you… What's the matter?"

Hisoka managed to blink slowly, retracting his hands from his head. The crushing emotion had left with the music, but a pounding pain remained insistently hammering in his skull. _Ugh._

Without hesitating another moment, he moved to where the stereo sat, now in silence, pressing the eject button before carefully sliding out the disc within, holding it cautiously, as if it might burn him. It appeared to be one of those generic, blank CDs sold for people to burn their own music onto them. Someone had written, '_Performed by Adrian Mann_' in legible, if undecorated, handwriting, the black ink lines shining on the white surface. His face now impassive, Hisoka turned to his partner again. "This music had some sort of effect on me, probably through my empathy."

"I felt something, too," Tsuzuki said, nodding, reluctant to take his eyes away from studying Hisoka's face. "But it definitely wasn't half that intense." Would this put him at greater risk during the case? How could he even protect him from an assault of that type? Brows furrowed, he reached out a hand, offering to take the CD from the other. He still seemed almost afraid of it, after all.

It was with quiet relief that Hisoka handed over the disc, although he couldn't help but grimace, seeing that Tsuzuki held it with complete disregard for the delicate underside of the CD. Of course, someone like him wouldn't understand modern technology enough to know that CDs weren't meant to be handled that way. He shook his head in disdain, but it hurt far too much for him to bother chastising the older man.

"We should go back," Tsuzuki announced, much to his surprise, after he had finished examining the disc for himself. "I think this is enough to get our search started for now." _And I'm worried about you_, hung unspoken in the air between them. Hisoka glared.

"There's so much we haven't looked into, and no reason to leave yet! Think about this rationally. We need to get everything we can while we're here." The throbbing in his temple told him otherwise, but it wasn't enough to stop him from fighting this. He wasn't going to be coddled, and they were _not_ going to miss something important because he was being weak.

"Hisoka, I—"

Tsuzuki's protest, spoken softly compared to the harsh words just thrown at him, was cut off by voices outside. A young woman sounding concerned, and an older man who just sounded baffled and vaguely distressed, seemed to be standing right outside.

"I didn't even hear the door opening, or anything breaking, but I swear… There was music coming from in there again, just like it used to. No one's supposed to be in there anymore, right? They didn't get a new tenant yet…?"

Metal clinking against metal came in next, although muffled by the door. Hisoka stiffened instinctively. It was the sound of someone searching through a ring of keys.

"No, there shouldn't be anyone inside. I'll check for you, but you must just be hearing things, lady."

At the sound of a key being inserted into the lock, the partners met eyes for only an instant before teleporting out, just as the key slid within.

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><p>Much to Tsuzuki's distress, the mattress at the hotel they'd been allotted was hardly softer than the floor, as stiff and unyielding as it now felt, pushing back up against his legs. He was perched there, with the laptop rested precariously on his lap, as if it was some strange, delicate animal that he just didn't quite know what to do with. There may have been some truth to that, actually. He was clicking away at the keyboard at a turtle's pace, seeking out each key needed in turn, with one finger pushing at a time.<p>

From the next bed over, Hisoka sighed in frustration, watching the excruciating process. He had been coaxed into lying down by a combination of Tsuzuki's insistence and the immensity of his headache, but the deciding factor had been the admittedly logical statement that there was only one laptop for them to research on, in the first place, so one of them may as well rest.

He hadn't been counting on his partner being _this_ infuriatingly inept at using said laptop, of course.

"All you need to do is look up the name 'Adrian Mann' in a Fukuoka City directory, you know," he said, making an effort not to sound as irritated as he was. He regretted it upon hearing himself though, as it just made him sound pathetically exhausted.

Tsuzuki jumped a little at being addressed suddenly, closing the internet window he'd opened, even though he'd only managed to type "ways to deal with headaches for empa" before he'd started wondering if the internet would even know what empaths were. Turning to Hisoka, he beamed pointedly. "Oh, I already did that! I wrote his address down a while ago."

Well, that hadn't been the answer he'd been expecting. Hisoka blinked, surveying the room, only to find that surely enough there was a sheet of hotel paper ripped out from the complimentary notepad, with a name and address written messily on it. "…Where was I when this happened?"

"Right there, asleep, of course!" Tsuzuki was radiating satisfaction, happy that his (clearly malicious) plan to get his partner to rest had been so successful. In fact, he couldn't even recall having been asleep. It seemed like he'd just closed his eyes.

In one fluid motion, Hisoka was off the bed, and he had the paper folded and in his pocket before Tsuzuki had time to even place the laptop down beside him (which, admittedly, was a rather painstakingly slow process; Watari had instilled in him the idea that computers were to be treated like porcelain).

Crestfallen, Tsuzuki shot Hisoka a confused look as he moved to follow him towards the door. For his part, the youth had already started gearing up for the cold weather. "Where are you going?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hisoka stared hard at the odd assortment of distress and bemusement on his partner's face, daring him to challenge the decision to head out. If he had already wasted time sleeping, he certainly wasn't about to dawdle any longer. "We need to go speak with this Adrian Mann."

A myriad of doubts, concerns, and objections passed across Tsuzuki's mind, manifested in a few seconds of biting his lip and humming uncertainly. He knew that look all too well, and he didn't need empathy to see into Hisoka's thoughts by now. This wasn't something he'd be allowed to deny him. Pulling on his usual trench coat, he smiled quietly in defeat.


	3. Chapter 2

**A Staircase in the Darkness**

**Chapter Two**

The daily newspaper cost 130 yen at the corner stand closest to his apartment. It was more than he needed to be paying, but that wasn't a concern for him. Not now, and he couldn't really imagine why it ever would have been, either.

He'd been buying one copy each day, scanning the pages with discerning eyes and quickly tapping fingers. He only really paid attention to the obituaries, keen to see a certain familiar name or two. They never showed up far from when he expected them to, and the pages never stated anything that surprised him. He had been warned that the papers would treat the deaths differently; not to worry, because they'd have their intended effect on the proper parties. Everything had been going as that man had told him, as of yet. There was almost certainly nothing trustworthy about such a person, but he was desperate. Now, however, that desperation was kept in check by a newfound confidence. This would work.

Humming to himself, a certain Adrian Mann reclined in his office chair that Friday afternoon. Tapping his pencil as he considered, he stared at the spattering of notes filling in the composition he was working on. It would be his best yet, he was quite certain, a piece that would finally hold human emotion in the most direct way possible; no falsification about it, the very bone of the despair so unique to humanity.

He'd never been a particularly attractive man, if one gave him a proper look. His nose was awkwardly long, and nothing about his face stood out as being especially well formed, poorly framed by brown hair that always seemed just too short or too long. It was his words, really, and his music that got him places in this world—and they had indeed taken him places, gotten him spots performing at upscale functions, made a name for him, albeit a small one. Such success was rather unexpected for a half-foreigner, and it certainly didn't help that one could hardly tell, from either name or appearance, that he was Japanese at all. Regardless, he had no regrets about staying in Japan, even if perhaps Germany would have given him a warmer reception. No, he needed to thank this land for that beautiful woman, that pure smile, overwhelming in its sincerity. His heart ached just thinking of her, and his pencil made a hollow sound as it collided with the wood of his desk, his hand suddenly limp.

A firm, insistent set of knuckles colliding with his door tore him out of his reverie. Besides the physical impact of the knock, some deeper sensation tugged at his awareness. _Interesting…_ Could these be the guests he'd been waiting for?

Although excitement bubbled up within him, he approached the door with even, measured footsteps. A small, polite smile painted carefully on his face, he opened the door. It only widened as he took in the sight of the unusual pair that greeted him; they could be none other than the special guests he'd invited. Never before had he seen such distinctive beings, both disquietingly beautiful in a way that seemed particularly unnatural. "Can I help you?"

Hisoka felt a little shaken when the man addressed them, and he turned his eyes downward awkwardly, waiting for Tsuzuki to give their answer. Luckily, he was ready with it, smiling back at him. "Good afternoon! You're Adrian Mann-san, correct?"

"Most certainly."

"My name's Tsuzuki Asato. I'm a friend of Tatsuya Akira." As he spoke, he couldn't help but notice his partner next to him looking particularly uncomfortable. Hopefully it only seemed so obvious because he knew the boy so well. The last thing they needed was for this man to get suspicious and clam up. As of now, he was their only lead.

Adrian shook his head, eyes closed, his smile now gone. "I'm sorry for your loss, then," he said as he stepped back from the doorway. "However, I must ask that you come in. I can imagine you have much more to say, and the hallway is no place for such a conversation."

Tsuzuki nodded, quietly rejoicing at gaining entry so easily. He hadn't even had to state some sort of point to their visit yet! Things never went this well, even with much better cover stories. "Thank you, pardon our intrusion," he half-mumbled as he passed through into the apartment.

Hisoka was following in his footsteps when the man caught his eyes. "And may I inquire as to your name?"

He blinked in silence for a few seconds that seemed to Tsuzuki like forever. "…Kurosaki Hisoka," ended up being the only answer he gave before continuing inside. Tsuzuki tried not to make his bafflement at the odd behavior too apparent to the third party. It was times like this he wished that he could somehow use Hisoka's empathy to have a covert conversation with him.

Hisoka, for his part, was fairly mystified, too, but there seemed to be some numbing veil over his mind ever since their arrival. It must have been the remnants of his headache after the shock earlier. He needed to get it together if he didn't want to impede their progress yet again.

"Alright then," Adrian said with a smile after only a brief pause, "Please do feel free to take a seat anywhere. I apologize for the lack of space."

"It's no problem at all! This is way nicer than my place," Tsuzuki exclaimed as he plopped down onto the small couch unceremoniously. It was only when he was seated that he remembered he was supposed to be formal at the very least. It probably made up for Hisoka's almost silent mumble of "Thank you," as he took the seat beside his partner, however.

"Now please, continue."

Exhaling deeply, Tsuzuki focused on not messing up on any of the details of their admittedly hazy story. "Tatsuya-san had mentioned you a few times before his death… We thought that you might be able to shed some light on what was going on with him in those last few weeks. None of us really understand what brought this on…" His eyes fell to his lap, sorrow showing in them.

"At the very least," Hisoka spoke suddenly, much to everyone's surprise. "He seemed to truly respect you as a musician. It was enough to make us want to meet you for ourselves."

Adrian seemed delighted at the young man's words, a spark of interest in his eyes now. "Oh, do you two study music, then?"

"Ah, no, not both of us!" Tsuzuki replied hastily. He couldn't fake knowledge about music on such short notice; that much was certain.

"I've studied some piano, although I do more listening than playing." It was only half a lie; of course, it wasn't like the man would ask him to play a sample, so he should be safe. Still, his eyes travelled to the parlor piano nestled into a corner of the apartment nervously.

"There's no sin in simply appreciating."

Tsuzuki cleared his throat, a bit irritated at the diversion in topic. "Tatsuya-san seemed to appreciate your music quite a bit!"

"Ah, yes," Adrian still sported a smile, turning his attention back to the older man again. "He had quite a bit of promise. It's truly a shame."

"It came out of the blue for us," Hisoka said in a low voice. "We thought maybe he had said something to you, or shown some sort of indication of what he was going through."

Shaking his head, Adrian's reply was impassive. "No, I don't recall us speaking of anything besides music, in fact. It was his passion, I could see… I must say though, the line between passion and madness can at times be thin."

Tsuzuki narrowed his eyes. That would hardly be an appropriate response to give his grieving friends. Glancing at his partner, however, he saw him merely nod, appearing unperturbed.

"I suppose we can't have insight into his mind…"

"Most unfortunately," the man nodded solemnly. He hadn't taken a seat even as the others had, and he now wandered idly towards his piano.

This fact didn't escape Hisoka, who fidgeted nervously. Tsuzuki just blinked.

"I feel bad sending you two away empty-handed," Adrian smiled widely despite expressing regret, turning to his guests again. His fingers rested on the keys, absently sliding across the nearest few. "And you do appreciate music, as you've said? Perhaps I could play a piece for you?"

Anxious to leave, Tsuzuki was about to politely deny the offer when he heard Hisoka's voice. "That would be very kind of you," he said, sounding… interested? Tsuzuki stared. Something was off here, not only with this man and his story, but with Hisoka. He almost never did the talking when they were gathering information; something like this was nearly unthinkable.

As he took a seat, the man suddenly started to look a lot more natural, his fingers seeming to wield the keys as if they were extra appendages. It occurred to Hisoka that this must be where he truly belonged, with an instrument at his fingertips. "This should help ease your troubled minds," he said as he struck the first note.

Immediately, the same rush invaded Hisoka's senses, the creeping tingle of something worming its way into a place where nothing should be able. But if last time, the notes were cold water, the sound this time could be nothing but gentle rays of spring sunlight. It was a peaceful work, one that he recognized, and yet he had never heard it quite like this. Although the feelings sought to overpower him with a lethargic warmth, his mind continued reeling at how _wrong_ it was, that no amount of musical talent can grant someone the power to actually go into his empathy and make him feel so _strongly_.

It was numbing, however, and it soon had made its way in far enough to take that very thought and smother it. The warmth seared delicately across his senses now, and nothing but appreciation for its beauty was left, a small smile showing on his face as the piece came to an end. He clapped quietly a few times as the pianist turned back to his audience. Next to him, Tsuzuki looked perplexed, but joined in with his own reluctant applause.

"That was… Satie, was it?"

Adrian looked pleasantly surprised. "Indeed. I hope my rendition was satisfactory."

Tsuzuki was completely dumbfounded. Hisoka looked totally relaxed, and was even smiling at this man, stranger as he was. Should he be… happy? It was kind of sad that this fact alarmed him, but he was feeling very agitated and suspicious. "It was really nice, but we'd really better get going now," he said, standing as if to emphasize his point. He was only more distressed to see hesitation flicker across his partner's face before he stood, following suit.

"A shame," the pianist said, still smiling as he opened the door for the two. "Do feel free to come again if you need anything."

"Thank you," Hisoka said as he was ushered out the door.

* * *

><p>For some reason, Hisoka had laid down on one of the beds almost as soon as they'd returned, and simply stared at the ceiling. Not knowing what to do, his partner had uneasily settled on the other one, just looking at him. He <em>did<em> appear to be exhausted, with soft rings around his eyes. Lost in thought about what had happened earlier, Tsuzuki didn't realize that he'd forgotten to look away until those very eyes he'd been contemplating turned to meet his own.

"What _is_ it?" Unsurprisingly, he seemed irritated. And he was, but at the same time, he chastised himself for just how snappish he sounded. Everything had been confusing and coming out wrong today for him, and frankly, he just wanted it to be over.

"I was just thinking," Tsuzuki avoided his gaze now, eying the fibers of the carpet instead. "There was something suspicious about him." It wasn't a total lie, Hisoka could sense that much, but it wasn't the whole truth, either. That much was obvious.

"Really?" The assertion did surprise him. He couldn't recall anything out of place about the man, and certainly nothing incriminating. "I didn't think so."

Tsuzuki was looking at him like he'd grown a third head. "Really. Everything about him seemed… odd." _And about you when you were near him_, but he didn't want to say that.

"I don't think that's exactly evidence."

Huffing, Tsuzuki followed the other's example and leaned back to rest against the bed. It hadn't gotten any softer, sadly. "You're right," he said, "But I can't shake the feeling."

Hisoka rolled his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed before pulling himself up. He couldn't really explain why he'd felt the need to rest in the first place, nor why he'd actually given into it, but it seemed foolish by now. At the very least, his head did feel a lot clearer, though.

"We'll need to go investigate whatever's left of the other victims' apartments next." He said it matter-of-factly, but it was a discouraging way for the case to turn. There was a much smaller chance of finding anything significant at the other scenes, as the personal belongings of the deceased would have already been moved out by now.

"Yeah…" Tsuzuki mumbled absently, turning to look at Hisoka again. For his part, Hisoka was pretty sick of all the odd glances he'd been getting. Really, he should be the one sending the confused and curious looks, because he wasn't the one who'd been hiding being upset this whole time. He scowled. Tsuzuki frowned back for a second before putting on a big smile. "But let's get dinner first! We haven't eaten since breakfast!"

Well, if that was how Tsuzuki planned on defusing the situation, he'd let it be. "Alright, but we're not stopping somewhere separate for dessert this time. We _do_ have a budget, after all."

Surprisingly, Tsuzuki didn't even pretend to whine in disappointment this time. Still beaming, he settled his usual coat over his shoulders, rolling his head back to hear the satisfying little cracks. "We'll just need to find a diner that serves great desserts, too, then!"

Admittedly defeated on that point, Hisoka allowed himself a tiny smile, quickly disguised by a turn of his back.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to those who left a review! I really appreciate it. Also, I have to admit that I feel guilty about the horrible and thinly concealed literary reference that is Adrian's name, even though no one's caught me. I also realized maybe I should have warned that there is an OC involved, but he's only really a secondary figure in the story to the canon characters—I tried to treat him like the characters that appear in the arcs of the manga, actually, to give the case a similar feel. I hope that comes off somewhat. Thanks to all readers, and my beta as always!

* * *

><p><strong>A Staircase in the Darkness<strong>

**Chapter Three**

It was loud in the restaurant, but not overwhelmingly so. The effect was actually oddly warming, the bustle of the employees and the cheerful chatter of the customers filling the air. It still made Hisoka a little nauseous, but he thought that if he didn't have his empathy, it might have been a good atmosphere for him, too. Tsuzuki seemed to be enjoying it, although he had stopped chattering a few minutes ago. The food had yet to arrive, but the waitress had only just taken their orders, so that wasn't such a surprise when the place seemed busy. Tsuzuki generally only went quiet either when the food had taken too long in arriving, or when there was something he really wanted to say, but he was debating it.

Hisoka very nearly blurted 'out with it,' but decided it would be better not to. Instead, he opted for giving a pointedly quizzical look.

"Is something the matter, Hisoka?" Concern immediately leapt into his eyes, his mouth a thin line of worry.

Sighing, Hisoka adjusted the placement of his napkin on the table absently, just so he wouldn't have to look. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I was just… thinking," Tsuzuki paused, and Hisoka fervently hoped he wasn't going to try and claim that he had been contemplating how the dessert would taste. He would definitely end up throwing something at him for that one (although he had been doing that significantly less often as of late).

"About…?" Hisoka resorted to the reminder after a moment had passed, trying not to just sound irritated. This was his chance to show Tsuzuki that he _should_ be talking about these things to him.

There was only a brief pause before Tsuzuki settled his chin on his hands, smiling. "You."

That had been about the last answer he'd been expecting. Against his will, his cheeks traitorously grew hot and flushed pink. He idly entertained the notion of knocking his utensils onto the floor, just for the excuse of hiding his face while picking them up. No, that would just make him look like an even bigger fool. "Wha- what?"

Tsuzuki chuckled a little, tilting his head to the side. It was a beautiful sound, but acknowledging that was the last thing Hisoka wanted to do right now. "Of course I think about you! You're my partner, after all. Should I have made up something else?"

Frowning, Hisoka crossed his arms. "…No," he ended up saying, although frankly that's what he would have done if he had been caught in the same situation. He wanted to say a million different things after that, but none of them were willing to come out. He was somehow thankful, because at least half of them were incriminating or at the very least quite embarrassing. _It's not like I haven't been thinking about you, too_, for example.

"See? You don't need to be embarrassed!"

Refusing to sputter indignantly as his instincts wished to, Hisoka willed his blush to go away. That teasing tone was infuriating. "You should be thinking about the case, instead," he said, stiffly, refusing to meet those eyes.

"Aww, but you know what they say! All work and no play makes life awfully dull!"

"Tsuzuki… that isn't even how the expression goes," he replied in disbelief, voice totally deadpan. Sometimes he wondered if the older man did this just to be cute, or if he was sincerely going senile.

The playful pout that followed seemed to be supporting evidence for his first guess. "You got the point! And I already told you what I thought about the case, anyways."

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. He knew that his suspicions of the (innocent, by his assessment) man they'd met with were not the extent of his feelings on the case. He grunted softly, rolling his eyes. "…I don't even know what there is to think about," he muttered eventually.

Tsuzuki looked surprise at the return to that topic. Maybe he'd expected to avoid having to voice his actual thoughts by giving that answer, but Hisoka wasn't planning on totally dropping it, even if it meant going through more embarrassment. This was the sort of thing they should be able to discuss, he firmly believed. There should be at least that much trust between them.

"Trust me, you have nooo idea then!" Although he was laughing, he looked a little agitated. Hisoka frowned. He didn't want to talk about it? Shouldn't _he_ be the one reluctant about the topic? "I wonder when dinner will get here… I'm starving!"

He was positively _asking_ for the icy glare that those words earned him. Hisoka was half-tempted to call him out on the obvious dodge, but instead he sighed. He couldn't even remember what he'd ordered. This case really had him out of it.

* * *

><p>The clock's steady tick was the only sound reverberating around the cramped apartment, and it seemed deafeningly loud. Although he blinked them insistently, the man's eyes felt impossibly dry. The only light that remained on by this time of night was the small lamp overseeing his writing desk, and it felt blinding to him. The notes dashed sporadically about the paper before him seemed to swim. He leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath.<p>

He'd only penciled in roughly two notes since that evening. Excitement still coursed through his veins; each thought that came to him somehow returned to those visitors he'd had. Everything had been just as he'd been told, from their appearances to what they'd wanted to know. The whole story must have been true, every word that man had told him. Adrian smiled, lips stretched thin over his teeth. He pulled his hand into a fist before unfurling it, imagining the nerves across his skin alight with the sensation of her hand within them. _It shouldn't be long, at this rate…_

* * *

><p>It ended up not being until the next morning that they arrived at the previous victim's apartment, which was fortunately still vacant, at the very least. It had been mostly emptied out, however, and there wasn't much to look for. Some of the personal assets were still left behind, packaged in cardboard boxes in one corner of the room, waiting to be taken by family members. Only the really valued things had been taken as of yet.<p>

Hisoka was feeling irritated, to say the least, after last night. Tsuzuki had delayed throughout dinner, and then attempted to bargain with the waitress, arguing that his apple pie really should be complimentary, or at the very least discounted. The girl had been surprisingly no-nonsense about the whole affair, however, and had not relented even through the puppy eyes treatment. Hisoka had quietly applauded her for the feat, although he mostly just really wanted to move on with the investigation already. By the time they had paid and left, Tsuzuki had convinced him that there would no longer be any advantage to going that night, rather than the morning. He'd been reluctant, if tired and with a giant headache, but agreed to hold off.

Despite all that, Tsuzuki had the gall to step in with a smile, happily pointing out that at least there was still _something_ for them to investigate. Hisoka had delegated him to picking apart the cardboard boxes as punishment, while he went down the small hallway to look into the side rooms.

To his surprise, there was still a calendar left hanging on the wall. There really… shouldn't have been, from his understanding of what the man's family had done in the wake of his death; it should either have been packed up or taken, to be kept in his memory. Something was off here. Gingerly lifting it from the nail holding it up, he scanned the page for this month. It took a moment to decipher, but there were notes on a few days marking when he'd seen a doctor, or gone to an event. And the very last note he'd made, was… Hisoka's eyes widened.

Just as he'd closed the calendar and tucked it under his arm, prepared to go show it to his partner, he heard distinctive footsteps approaching. Tsuzuki must have found something, too.

"Hisoka," he said as he came into sight, "Look at this."

Brows furrowed, Hisoka examined the object outreached to him. It was a jewel case, with a white CD inside. He hardly had to even read the characters written on it to guess what they said. _Performed by Adrian Mann_.

"That's…" he muttered, hand drawn to his chin as he thought, but he ended up unable to think of a conclusion. Did it even mean anything? Perhaps the man was an upcoming name in the music world. He wouldn't be surprised, with those skills.

"It's too much to be a coincidence," Tsuzuki asserted, voice firm. "He's definitely involved in this case somehow."

Hisoka bit his lip gently. "I don't think we can say that for sure," he replied, still in thought. "It only makes sense that they'd both have his CDs, if they were involved in the local music circles."

His partner wasn't convinced, he could tell that much. He seemed oddly insistent on involving this man, but even the second piece of evidence just couldn't move Hisoka away from his certainty that Adrian Mann had no hand in this, was just a bystander.

"Anyway," he said, deciding that they could argue about this more later if needed, "I found something, too." He held the calendar out to Tsuzuki, indicating the last note written.

"It's funny that this was left behind," he mused as he looked quizzically at the date Hisoka was pointing to. "But what's up with that one? He went to a concert that day…?"

"Tatsuya Akira had written in his daily planner that he attended the very same concert," Hisoka remarked as he closed the calendar again. "Isn't that, also, too odd to be a coincidence?"

Tsuzuki looked like he wanted to say something, but chose not to. "You're right. We should check out that concert hall, then," he replied after a moment's silence. Hisoka guessed he still wanted to follow up on the lead with the CDs, but he ended up just quietly pocketing the jewel case.

"Was there anything else in those boxes?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Tsuzuki hummed. "Just a lot of classical music CDs, and some books. Nothing he'd written himself, though, or anything suspicious."

Hisoka nodded. It made sense; and two suspicious articles was already more than he'd been expecting to find. The rest of the place was almost completely bare, the carpets rolled up and shoved into corners. Soon enough someone else might move in, once everyone had entirely forgotten what had happened in the apartment.

* * *

><p>The ceiling looked just the same as it did yesterday, but Hisoka found himself staring at it anyways. It wasn't a particularly special ceiling, just one of those white-washed plaster ones. It didn't even have those randomly dispersed punctures to decorate it. It was kind of maddening to look at, actually, and he turned his head to the side, but he just ended up looking at Tsuzuki when he did that. While that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it wasn't something he particularly wanted to get used to. Looking at Tsuzuki made him think about things that he shouldn't be, especially not while they were working, and most definitely not while he was supposed to be irked with him.<p>

He was more irked with himself right now, though. He had been the one insisting that the concert hall was a lead for the case, not the CD. And it could have been a lead, if said hall hadn't been one of the largest in Fukuoka, the Symphony Hall. There had been well over one thousand people at that concert. For two classical music enthusiasts to have both attended wasn't surprising, nevermind suspicious. He sighed, nuzzling his cheek farther into the mattress before he realized what he was doing. Tsuzuki was looking at him oddly, so he lethargically sat up, suddenly embarrassed.

"Hisoka," he said, nervousness practically emanating from him. It was funny how sometimes the man was so transparent, and other times he was so impossibly confusing that not even Hisoka's empathy could decipher him. "I…"

Uncomfortable, Hisoka stiffened where he now sat, fortunately at an angle that didn't force him to meet his partner's eyes. There were a lot of things he might be wanting to say right now, and he wasn't sure how many of them he wanted to hear. "You…?" he ended up pushing after it was obvious the other had fallen into silence, contemplating whether or not to speak. In the end, it would be better to hear.

"No, nevermind." His smile was tight and controlled as he shook his head, eyes shut. It just looked sad. Hisoka glared at him full-force. Now this, this was not fair.

"You can't tell me… even now?" It was hard to keep his voice from trembling. The words simply didn't want to leave his throat, awkward and heavy as they felt. Even if he insistently put his trust into his partner (it took great effort at times, to remind himself that this was _Tsuzuki_, and he could trust him), opening himself up to something that could hurt felt so unnatural. Reluctantly, he met Tsuzuki's eyes. He looked surprised. Those eyes softened in understanding, looking impossibly gentle, yet tormented at the same time. Hisoka knew all too well that trust wasn't simple, but why couldn't Tsuzuki understand that he would prefer to be hurt by the truth, to share a burden, no matter how heavy, if it was from him?

"It's not… that," his voice was quiet, all too quiet in the total silence. "It's just… not a good time. I shouldn't have said anything."

Hurt shone in Hisoka's eyes. He had to look away. Tsuzuki should have known that didn't matter. It wasn't like he himself hadn't practically confessed his love while they were both about to die; talk about horrible timing. "Whatever, then," he muttered, getting up and walking to the small table in the center of their room. His fingers traced the paper there, which had been crumpled in frustration on the way back. It was in his own handwriting, detailing how to get to the concert hall. He sighed. There was a convoluted mess of emotion pushing at him from his partner's direction, and it ached.

Hisoka could already feel the apology hanging in the air with unexpected clarity, but he didn't want to hear it. "We should get moving on with the investigation," he interrupted preemptively, voice quiet and not as biting as he wanted it to sound. He just sounded tired and sad; pathetic.

A strangled sigh was the only reply he got, as several moments passed. At last Tsuzuki broke the silence, sounding thoroughly remorseful. "I guess our next step would be…" Both of them were contemplating it, troubled with the lack of evidence leading them anywhere. Tsuzuki was tempted to mention the pianist again, but he decided not to test his luck again; making things even worse between them after such a tense moment was the last thing he needed.

"Are there spells that can…" Hisoka looked uneasy as he spoke, "control people's emotions?"

Tsuzuki's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Not that a human would be able to cast," he replied, eyes cast upward as he considered. "If a demon were involved… a high level one could certainly manipulate people that way."

Frowning, Hisoka turned back towards his partner again at last, leaning back with the table as support. That was a disturbing thought, to say the least. He hummed, contemplating the possibility. Nothing about the scene had implied a demonic presence, but that didn't rule out the possibility.

There was concern in Tsuzuki's eyes again. The idea seemed to trouble him, too. "Why do you ask, though?"

Arms crossed uneasily over his stomach, the younger shinigami trained his eyes on the carpet. "When we went to Tatsuya's apartment, I could feel the remnants of what he'd been experiencing," he tried to say it matter-of-factly, but he almost shivered at the memory. "It must have been almost impossibly strong to leave an impression behind for so long… It just doesn't fit in with how his life had been going."

His partner nodded, mouth downturned in sympathy and concern. "It might be," he said quietly. "It would explain how all the suicide methods were similar. But a demon wouldn't just go about doing this on his own… It's a violation of the treaty with Enmachou, unless…"

"Unless they're under contract?"

"Exactly," Tsuzuki bit his lip idly. If Hisoka was right, this case would be getting very complicated, very quickly. "Although it's hard to imagine what sort of contract would entail this sort of fulfillment…"

"It must have something to do with music," Hisoka mused. "That's the most obvious connection between the victims so far. Perhaps some sort of grudge, or jealousy, from another musician?"

"That would make sense," the older shinigami replied, nodding. "Too bad we don't have anything to go off of, for the identity of either the demon or the potential contractor."

Hisoka sighed in frustration. No leads meant hours spent attempting to research futile suspicions, with no actual way of affirming anything. This case would, realistically, be at a stalemate until they somehow stumbled across new evidence. He cringed; that would likely require another death. In short, their investigation could not be failing more spectacularly; two days, and they'd gotten nowhere.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: I can't thank everyone who reviewed enough for the feedback! I really appreciate it. I'll be trying to keep on updating weekly, despite the semester getting a bit frantic, so it's great to know people are actually looking forward to it. (And to Axya, yes, the initial idea for this story actually involved starting and ending with the different reports!) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

**A Staircase in the Darkness**

**Chapter Four**

In his dream, everywhere had been pitch-black. He couldn't dispel the sense that his feet had to keep moving, that he couldn't afford to stop. In his hand was someone else's more delicate one- it felt impossibly familiar; it had to be none other than _hers_. They were climbing a staircase, feet flying past as many steps as they could at once. It was terrifying, trying to keep his foothold with each leap, while being totally unable to see the structure. But no, he would do anything, _anything_, to finally get out. His heart was pounding, the sound of his pulse filling his ears, and all thoughts were secondary to the imperative that he needed to _move_-

The hand clasped within his own trembled. It felt so fragile, so cold. _Is she going to be able to make it? If I lose her again, now…_ He couldn't afford to let go of her hand. That, he knew with an impossible certainty. This would all be over, if he let go.

They continued to ascend at what must have been an amazing pace, and his legs burned with pain from the exertion, sweat dripping down his forehead. Yet, there showed no sign of light from the top, and it terrified him. Would they really never make it back? At the very least, he had been able to feel her again. His hand tightened around hers unconsciously.

Without any warning, he heard her soft tones, crying out in what seemed to be pain. It tore at his heart, the sound just like one of the last ones he had heard from her, when they had been together at the end. He knew- he knew that he mustn't look back. Despite that, his traitorous muscles spun his head around, in the vain hope of seeing if she was alright, despite that he knew nothing was visible in this darkness.

His eyelids flew open, met with the sight of his apartment, the morning light filtering in through his bedroom windows. Heart racing and breath coming out in heavy pants, he clutched his chest with a sweaty palm. _That dream again…_

* * *

><p>The worst part about this "research" was the numbness that eventually took over. There were only so many times that he could read the deceased's files before Hisoka's eyes glazed over, and the facts started crossing over into each other. Of course, no new similarities would mystically appear between them, and he knew that, but it was better than waiting in complete idleness. Tsuzuki had once compared the futile process to wandering over to a fridge that you knew was empty, yet opening it again anyways, in hopes of new food materializing in there. He had snorted at him and told him to get back to work, but he had to grudgingly admit that it was a sadly accurate analogy.<p>

His partner, helplessly distracted, had wandered out a few minutes ago, enthusiastically offering to procure some lunch for them. It had been an excuse to leave the dull work, and they had both known it, but Hisoka had understood that preventing him wouldn't have done anyone any good. It was getting to the point when he felt like stopping, too.

Just as he had taken to observing how the sunlight fell on the table, the door opened, and his partner practically came tumbling in. He was a flurry of motion, attempting to juggle several boxes of take-out and what appeared to be the morning paper. However, Hisoka could sense turmoil from him, far from the happy feelings he expected to accompany the food he was bearing. "Welcome back," he said, raising an eyebrow as he watched Tsuzuki struggle to place the boxes down without toppling the whole structure over. "Did something happen?"

The boxes finally placed safely on the table, Tsuzuki frowned at him from over the pile. "Yeah," he mumbled as he reached out to him with the hand holding the paper.

Apprehension flickered across Hisoka's features as he accepted it. He could already guess what he'd find within. And just as he'd suspected, one of the first obituaries described the suicide of a recent graduate of music school, Satou Itsuki. Dread filled his chest, making it feel constricted. They'd taken too long, and another person had died. He knew that was what Tsuzuki was feeling, too; he always did, and he blamed himself a lot more harshly than Hisoka, he knew. It wasn't technically their fault, after all, and he could acknowledge that. "Another one…"

"Yeah…" Tsuzuki nodded, pulling out the other chair and seating himself, a dark look in his downcast eyes. He didn't even reach for one of the take-out packages. Worry seized Hisoka, although he was grateful, in all honesty, that Tsuzuki hadn't tried to hide this.

"He'll be the last one." The words were out of Hisoka's mouth before he could stop them. He shouldn't have, and he was busily berating himself mentally the next second. This was supposed to be the mistake Tsuzuki made; he knew enough not to make promises. They would just make this hurt more for both of them if his words ended up proved wrong. But still… it hardly seemed to be worse than sitting here in silence as his partner fell into another depression. "We'll be able to get enough evidence from his apartment, and we'll stop what's behind this before anyone else dies."

Tsuzuki's eyes were wide with surprise, his head snapped up to look at the other. Hisoka felt thoroughly embarrassed when the surprise transitioned to a quiet, thankful smile. "You're right. We can do that, at least."

Blushing, Hisoka pushed aside the papers he'd been examining, making an effort not to look into those eyes. They were too beautiful like this. Picking out one of the take-out containers and examining the contents disinterestedly, he tried to make his embarrassment as unnoticeable as possible. Regardless, Tsuzuki probably noticed. He sighed. "We should head out after we eat… The police should be gone by now, if this happened last night."

Tsuzuki nodded, similarly reaching out for the food at last. He gave his partner a warm look, although it was fervently avoided by said young man. _Thank you_. Hisoka could practically hear the words as if they had actually been spoken. It was with a small smile that he bit into the noodle he'd picked up.

* * *

><p>As soon as his feet had crossed the threshold, Hisoka needed to reach out an arm to steady himself. He hardly noticed it was Tsuzuki's sleeve he'd utilized to do so, but that was the last thought on his mind. There weren't many thoughts on his mind, actually; rather, emotions were crushing him to a frightful extent. That same maddening despair—a sense that all pursuit was fruitless—nothing he could possibly do after this would be worth anything. That was why… It would be better to just…<p>

He hadn't realized his eyes had been squeezed tightly shut until they'd suddenly been open, and he was staring into his partner's concerned eyes. He had thought the whole world had just been darkness, somehow, in that moment. The existence of light hadn't occurred to him. By the time those thoughts filtered in, though, he realized that the overwhelming sensation was gone, the emptiness left in its wake filled only by the anxiety he could feel from Tsuzuki.

"Are you okay? Did it pass?"

Hisoka didn't want to attract any more worry, but he couldn't help the shiver than ran through him. "It's gone, yeah," he answered eventually, once he was certain his voice would be steady. He spoke again after another moment under the scrutiny of his partner's concerned stare, "We should look around here. There must be something." It was only after he'd spoken that he realized that Tsuzuki had yet to move, mainly because his hand was still fisted in the cloth of his jacket. Thoroughly embarrassed, he yanked it away before walking quickly off, barely aware of where he was headed. He felt from behind him a twinge of amusement, before it faded into something darker.

Determinedly ignoring whatever the older shinigami was feeling or doing, he set himself to the task of looking through the papers and books scattered on the man's desk. He hadn't been very orderly, that much was clear, and loose sheets were spread about the desk like dead leaves on a forest floor. He sighed, picking one up at random. He went through several like that, none of them anything of interest: a printout detailing musical technique, a restaurant review or two. Lifting up one unearthed an envelope beneath it, with the top cut open and a letter poking out. Idly curious, Hisoka turned it over in his hand. His eyes widened at the name attributed to the return address: Tatsuya Akira.

"Hisoka," his partner called from behind him, just as he'd been ready to turn to show him the letter. "You need to see this."

Tsuzuki was holding out a disc, the type that was starting to look all too familiar. "I have something you need to see, too," he said, reaching out to pass him the envelope in exchange. He hardly needed to see the CD to know what would be written on it, again: the name of a certain performer.

"I know it still doesn't necessary mean he was involved," Tsuzuki said as he took the paper between his fingers. "But it was still in the radio when I found it… it had been left on, again."

Hisoka nodded. It was certainly odd, he'd admit that, but it wasn't like a CD could be the culprit. He kept that opinion silent, for now. "Read that letter," he decided on saying, "I think it has a lead for us to follow."

The letter was an invitation to a dinner to be held between members of a group of music lovers after a concert on the 16th. It seemed to be a common thing, done between friends and aspiring musicians—but from the tone it would seem that Satou had had a disagreement with one of the members a previous time. Tatsuya had encouraged him to attend despite that, with some rather disparaging words for the man that he'd quarreled with, a certain Ishida Jun'ichirou.

Tsuzuki hummed in contemplation. "So they were both enemies of the same man? That's certainly… suspicious."

"We should see if we can get into this group," Hisoka said, to Tsuzuki's surprise. "To see for ourselves."

Looking worried, Tsuzuki stuttered for a moment, his hand nervously scratching the back of his head. "I'm not sure I could pull that one off…"

* * *

><p>Hisoka blinked at the phone receiver, still gripped in his hand. It was emitting that offensively loud tone that practically screamed 'you've been hung up on, congratulations.' His eye twitched.<p>

They'd investigated the rest of the apartment, but found nothing else even remotely suspicious. Upon returning, Hisoka had immediately set to looking up the number of the only still living person that he knew was involved with this musician's society—of course, it had to be the one who seemed most hated, and Hisoka could now see why. He'd gotten irritated at the mention that his caller had known Tatsuya and Satou, but when the shinigami had expressed interest in attending the event, he had begrudgingly accepted that having more members would be a good thing. He had then promptly hung up after a one word parting, luckily after he'd already given Hisoka the information needed to meet up with them. It had been a success, but he already felt disgusted with this guy. He set the phone back down in the cradle with only a bit more force than necessary.

It was getting on to be late in the evening, and the clouds gathering outside were tinted a pretty color orange. Thoughts drifting, Hisoka found it hard to concentrate on the case. So much had gone on between him and Tsuzuki in the past few days, and all of the different feelings for him he'd been keeping thoroughly buried beneath a heavy layer of realism had been dug up one after another. He shook his head, dispelling the line of thought. They'd get through this case, and the tension would die down, and then those feelings could go back to resting in peace.

Said partner was currently out; he'd given some rushed excuse involving a phone call and Watari before dashing out the door upon their return. Hisoka had blinked, but accepted the odd behavior (not that he'd had many other options). While he was gone, he may as well set about his next task: attempting to teach Tsuzuki enough to survive dinner with the musicians. Digging out a clean sheet of paper, he tapped a pencil thoughtfully against his chin. He'd be expected to have a favorite composer, piece, musician… and to know some basic facts, of course. He'd need to write it all down, starting from the very simplest of matters; he couldn't take it for granted that Tsuzuki would know the first thing about the subject. The only music he'd known Tsuzuki to be familiar with were those early 1900s pop songs. It was more enjoyable than it should have been, too, to think about which pieces and composers reminded him the most of his partner… which ones he'd enjoy, and which ones would just send him straight to sleep. Without meaning to, he found himself smiling as he jotted down the names (in katakana of course, so that Tsuzuki could at least attempt to pronounce them correctly).

He had yet to finish when the door opened again, and Tsuzuki came in, smiling. He looked accomplished. Hisoka raised an eyebrow. "I'm back!" he exclaimed, dashing over to the table where Hisoka sat without even bothering to take off his coat first. His eyes shone with excitement as he spoke, his hands pushing down on the table as he propelled himself forward a little, his face close to the younger man's. "Let's go get dinner, Hisoka!"

Well, he certainly didn't waste any time; Hisoka had to give him that. Feeling embarrassed at the sudden (and unnecessary) proximity, he slid his chair backwards to get up. "Alright, I guess I can catch you up on what you missed while we eat," he said as he picked up the sheet he started, folding it before placing it in his coat pocket. Tsuzuki continued to look at him oddly as he slid the jacket on.

"Sounds good to me!"

Tsuzuki then led the two of them past the main street lined with restaurants, to a smaller place a few blocks away. The walk was longer, but Hisoka was grateful when they entered, seeing that it was considerably less crowded than most places in such a populous city. His look of relief was met with a knowing smile.

As they settled in their booth, Hisoka unfolded the paper stashed in his pocket, laying it out on the table before them. Tsuzuki peered at it curiously from over his menu.

"I spoke to Ishida… -san," he said, spitting out the honorific only reluctantly. "And he said we were welcome to join the group for dinner after the show."

Laughing nervously, Tsuzuki put down the menu to properly read the paper. "That's… great! And this is…?"

"You'll need to study this," Hisoka replied, looking dead serious. "So that we don't seem suspicious. You'll probably be asked all of these questions."

"Ehhh?" Tsuzuki's face fell with devastation. The names on the paper were all foreign words, and he knew memorizing them would still likely end up with him messing up a syllable here and there.

Hisoka fixed him with a stern look. "This is our chance to investigate him," he reminded, tone leaving no room for complaint. "If he's behind this, we could end it before another dies."

"I know," Tsuzuki whined, dragging out the last syllable; an exaggeration that made it clear that, at this point, he was only protesting to put on a show. "But… can't we just say I'm only there as your date or something, and I don't know anything about classical music?"

Eyes wide, Hisoka simply stared as his mind processed the words. Had he heard right? Yes, there was no point fooling himself to that extent. After the numbness, his anger flared; was Tsuzuki really willing to go that far to make a joke out of it?

His silence was starting to confuse the man, who had no idea what thought process he had unintentionally initiated within his partner. "Hisoka?" he said, waving his hand in front of said shinigami's rapidly blinking eyes.

When he looked up, there was a mixture of hurt and anger on his face. He realized he should just throw something at him and tell him off for being lazy, but he couldn't stop himself from voicing what he did next. "No one would even believe that."

Now, Tsuzuki looked truly taken aback. Blinking hard, he put a smile back on, trying to lighten up the mood that suddenly felt oppressively negative. "What? Why?"

Hisoka sighed in frustration. "I look more like your little brother than anything," he said, trying not to make the bitterness overtly apparent in his voice.

Apparently realizing this only now, Tsuzuki fell into silence. He wanted to say something still, however, Hisoka could feel that much. Just as he thought the other might finally spit it out, the waitress came to take their orders. He hadn't even thought about food once the entire time they had been there, and he frankly wasn't sure what he told her he wanted. It didn't particularly matter.

When the sound of the waitress's heels hitting the floor had faded, Tsuzuki spoke at last, his eyes trained firmly to the table in front of him. "I don't think it's so hard to believe," he said, voice quiet.


	6. Chapter 5

**A Staircase in the Darkness**

**Chapter Five**

Dinner had been painfully awkward. Hisoka hadn't known what to think of Tsuzuki's statement, and it had ended up consisting of mostly uncomfortable silence. They had, however, agreed that Tsuzuki would simply memorize what he could, and present himself as someone merely beginning to look into the possibility of taking up the study of music. It had looked like there was more Tsuzuki wanted to say about Hisoka's behavior, but he had managed not to ask. The younger shinigami was impossibly grateful for that. He wasn't sure he could think of an explanation for his reaction that didn't involve going out and saying, "I'm afraid that you will never want me because I will always look like a teenager." Those words were the absolute last ones he planned on sharing.

He'd bitterly finished filling out the sheet for Tsuzuki to work on, before wordlessly turning in to sleep early. It was unusual, he admitted, but he didn't want to do or say anything to make the situation even worse. There was also admirably little left to do on his part. Any attempts to sleep, however, were for the most part unsuccessful; the combination of his own roiling emotions and the tangled mess of them emanating from his partner was far from conductive to peaceful rest.

Not to mention that, when he awoke in the morning from what little sleep he'd managed to get he had a strange, foggy memory of waking up to see Tsuzuki awake and watching him. It must have been a dream. If he was having dreams like that… He really had something to be concerned about here. He sighed, a hand clutching at his forehead. His actual headache wasn't anything worse than usual, but it was getting to him more than it normally did. It was only when he'd exerted the tremendous effort required to actually sit up that he realized that he couldn't sense his partner's signature energy, and a look to the other side of the room confirmed his absence. Unbidden, worry struck him. His legs flew over the side of the bed, carrying him to the door in a hurry. There was no note left on the table. He was about to open the door to check the hallway (for no apparent reason, he realized just as his fingers touched the doorknob) when he noticed that his presence was right nearby. Tsuzuki was coming this way, actually, and in another moment he heard his voice, muffled through the door. Embarrassed with himself for that reaction, he backed away. But why was he out there, and who was he talking to? Curious despite himself, Hisoka stayed close enough to the wall to be able to hear his voice through them.

"…Basically, everything went completely wrong," he was saying as he approached. Then there was a dull thud; Hisoka guessed he must have leaned back against the wall. "I didn't expect him to—I know, I know—I just thought…"

Silence followed, presumably as the person on the other end talked. This was an… odd conversation to overhear.

"I really do know that." He sounded thoroughly chastised. It made Hisoka wonder if it was Tatsumi that he was on the phone with. "But thanks. I think I'll get another chance, though, soon."

Was he talking about the case? Hisoka's brow furrowed. All he could feel from here was nervousness, with a tinge of excitement. That didn't really help, one way or another.

"Yeah, I will! Bye-bye," he heard, followed by the sound of his cell phone flipping shut. Hurriedly, Hisoka grabbed a change of clothes before closing himself into the bathroom and turning on the shower, so that Tsuzuki would realize he was still in the room.

The empath sighed as he stared blankly into the mirror. He should have felt bad about eavesdropping, but he couldn't make himself.

* * *

><p>By the time he'd come out of the shower, Tsuzuki was seated at the table, alternatively staring intensely at the paper and closing his eyes while muttering to himself. It was a pleasant surprise that he was actually putting in effort, although his study methods reminded him of a highschooler, cramming before a big test. Despite himself, he smiled a little. The look he'd earned for that had been almost disbelief, a tentatively hopeful smile in return.<p>

"Good morning," Tsuzuki eventually said, although he had almost not wanted to break the moment. "I got you something for breakfast. And it's not donuts, I promise!"

Hisoka had completely missed the package resting nearby on the table. He could tell that it had been opened by eager hands once already, and then those same hands had attempted, with some degree of success, to reseal it. That could only mean that Tsuzuki had gone out to a pastry shop, and already had devoured his own breakfast-desserts. With any luck, the one he'd spared wouldn't be something disgustingly sweet.

The wooden chair scraped across the floor as he pulled it out, and for some reason the sound seemed unnaturally loud. It might have been because of how self-conscious he was feeling, with Tsuzuki's gaze trained on him. It was like he was afraid he was going to suddenly blow up at him, and he could hardly believe that he was being allowed to sit at the table with him. Hisoka rolled his eyes, opening the box again and reaching in to dig out the pastry. "Thank you," he said at last as he observed the thing warily. There wasn't any chocolate visible from the outside; that was a promising sign, at least. Biting into it, it tasted fluffy and light, but it was surprisingly inoffensive.

Tsuzuki was looking at him as he chewed awkwardly, his eyes shining with hope. "How is it? How is it?"

"It… isn't bad," he said after swallowing. A miniature celebration broke loose across the table. Hisoka just sighed and took another bite.

It hadn't been long before Hisoka had needed to find some sort of reason to excuse himself, and lunch had just happened to be the perfect opportunity, much to Tsuzuki's surprise. He'd offered to bring back take-out for the other and been gone before he'd had time to say anything more than, "Oh! Okay!"

The air was only slightly biting outside, and it actually felt good to him today. He must really be going crazy, if the winter air was no longer bothering him. Sighing, his eyes traveled along the pavement of the sidewalk as he traversed it idly, not giving much thought to his destination. There were people all around him, walking quickly and just barely avoiding him, their emotions a jumbled sea of conflict. It was hard to clear his head, even when he was no longer in his partner's presence.

He was being unfair to Tsuzuki, and he knew it. There was no way the other knew _why_ all these things had been upsetting him recently; he was the only one reading emotions here, after all, even though it did seem eerily as if Tsuzuki just _knew_ sometimes. He almost wished he did. It would certainly make this easier, if he could just get the feeling out there. Maybe Tsuzuki wouldn't want to leave right away, maybe he'd give him time to get over it. That would be more characteristic of him, even if it did upset and confuse him, as Hisoka could already imagine it would. He knew Tsuzuki loved him, cared for him, he could feel that much, but it wasn't… He was sure it was different. It was hard to even pick up on it, buried under shields and so many other emotions—but he had felt it in those flames, when he'd been pressed close to the other. There was nothing to hide then. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or not that he hadn't actually used the words, '_I love you_.'

Right now, he was probably bemusedly perusing that sheet, as he had been when he'd left him. Hisoka had pulled out the files on the latest victim, scanning it again for more connections, although it was honestly just so that he would have something to do. The only other option would be to just tutor Tsuzuki on music. It actually sounded nice, but he had a feeling it wouldn't end well, not with all the missteps he'd been making lately. So he'd stuck to trying to work, while correcting Tsuzuki quietly whenever he missed a syllable in the names he was trying to remember. It was almost funny, that he knew so many spells effortlessly, yet he was having so much trouble remembering the names of these famous composers. It must have been a language barrier thing, since he grew up only ever hearing Japanese spoken.

He'd hardly realized he'd stepped into a restaurant until he heard the sound of the bell tinkling above him as he pushed the door open. He almost wished it hadn't been so easy for him to pick out from the menu exactly what Tsuzuki would have wanted if he'd been the one out getting the food (although he likely would have ordered more than one thing). And so he ended up heading back with a much smaller stack than the one Tsuzuki had boasted the other day, determined not to mess things up further by letting his emotions get in the way.

When he walked into the hotel room, it was to the sound of a crash as the chair Tsuzuki had been sitting in collided with the floor. He nearly dropped the boxes he was carrying, as he met eyes with the older shinigami, who had just stood up in one dramatic motion, his hands pressed firmly to the table in front of him.

"Hisoka," he said, sounding serious. "You came back just in time! I realized something."

Suddenly inexplicably nervous, Hisoka tried to appear nonchalant as he placed the food down on the table. It must have been something big, if he was ignoring the presence of food for it. "What is it?"

Insistently meeting his partner's eyes, Tsuzuki's stare was intense for a silent moment before he spoke. "What are we going to _wear_?"

Hisoka almost fell over. _That_ was his big revelation? He tried not to sigh in relief. Tsuzuki did have a point, though; the function they needed to attend tomorrow was rather high-class. "I guess we'll need to… rent tuxedos," he said, pushing the meal he'd bought Tsuzuki towards him across the table. Tatsumi wouldn't be particularly pleased when he saw the expense report, but if it was necessary, he'd begrudgingly understand.

Tsuzuki looked pleasantly surprised at that, and he turned to pick up his chair, satisfied. "So we get to go shopping!"

Exasperated, Hisoka took a bite out of the humble sandwich he'd ordered for himself. He hadn't realized what he was setting himself up for; a shopping trip with Tsuzuki… "I guess," he said, rolling his eyes.

Tsuzuki was already tearing into his food, the wrapping sadly massacred by the now fiendishly happy man. It almost sounded as if he was humming in between bites. Hisoka could say with conviction that this was not going to be a good day.

* * *

><p>He'd never heard anyone play the piano like that before. It had been more than an auditory experience; it had seemed to encompass his very being. His fingers had been trembling by the end, his vision blurred. Everything he'd come to accomplish with his technical abilities now seemed so small, so insignificant. No amount of <em>accuracy<em> could match up to the _emotion_ that somehow welled forth from the piano under this man's hands. He needed to know. How could someone create a sound with such power? How did this man take the wood and ivory of the piano and make it into a living, breathing being beneath his fingertips?

After the show, his feet had taken him to the performer before he even realized what he was doing. Their hands locked in a firm handshake, he stared at the other man's fingers. They were certainly a pianist's, long and slender, but so were his; nothing seemed to set them apart. _What could it be?_

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mann-san," he was saying, hardly thinking.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." His smile was cold, professional. "And your name is?"

"Ishida Jun'ichirou," he replied automatically. He knew he should apologize for not introducing himself sooner, but social convention was far from his thoughts. "Where did you study piano?"

At the question, the man smiled a wide, toothy smile.

* * *

><p>If asked, Hisoka would prefer to answer that he had been correct with his prediction. He must be miserable, of course, leaning against the wall of the dressing room, watching Tsuzuki waltz about with an imaginary partner in a crisp new tuxedo. He couldn't be feeling anything else, of course not. His partner's smile was so genuine, matching perfectly with the enjoyment he could feel from him. Hisoka crossed his arms, just to make sure he looked suitably irritated.<p>

The music playing in his head must have come to a stop, as the older shinigami slowed to a halt. "What do you think of this one, Hisoka?" he asked as he spun to look at his partner.

Suddenly put on the spot, Hisoka looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn't exactly want to indulge himself enough to admire how good Tsuzuki looked in formal attire. A blush was creeping its way onto his cheeks. The fitted black jacket really accentuated his figure, and the way the color matched with his hair really made his eyes stand out. "It's fine," he said, sounding frustrated.

"Alright! I'll go with this one, then," Tsuzuki smiled as he turned in the mirror. Shopping seemed to be so amusing for him, no matter what it be for. "How come you haven't tried anything on yet, Hisoka?"

The tuxedo he'd picked out had remained tucked beneath his arm the whole time. "I know what size I am," he stated matter-of-factly. _It's not like that's going to change,_ he thought, eyes downcast. "It will fit."

Tsuzuki made a sound of disapproval, his hands on his hips. "That's not the point! You need to try it on, to see how it looks!"

As with any time his partner seemed dead-set on something foolish, Hisoka was now presented with two paths: argue about it, and somehow end up going along with it anyways; or give up early and get it over with more quickly. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that the second option was the wiser choice. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said, but he walked into one of the changing stalls anyways. Tsuzuki cheered quietly for his victory.

The teenager in the mirror looked ridiculous, by Hisoka's judgment, wearing a tuxedo. It was a well-made garment, but it made him look like a kid trying to be a grown-up. He snorted in disgust, leaving the stall with it on only because he knew Tsuzuki would whine otherwise. As he stepped out, he was immediately aware of the man's eyes on him. He felt thoroughly humiliated, and obstinately refused to meet that gaze. The feelings filling the room were overwhelmingly confusing.

"You look great," Tsuzuki said eventually, his voice filled with something unidentifiable. Hisoka was so surprised that he made the mistake of looking up, and met his eyes without meaning to. He felt trapped by them, and he was scared to find that he almost believed that the other meant it.

It was in less than a minute that his back was pressed against the door of the changing stall, his heart beating fast. That painful moment of eye contact was something he'd need to work on forgetting. The last thing he needed was to feel even more confused; these foolish feelings would never go away if he let himself indulge in such… teasing, that must be what it was.

They didn't speak about it again, or much at all, although they both cringed when they saw the price on the cash register. If they couldn't successfully convince him that this had been necessary, Tatsumi would roast them both.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for the alerts and reviews, I'll simply hope that putting it on alert means you're enjoying it (haha). I'll warn in advance that there's a small storm of OCs who show up this chapter, but they serve a purpose, I swear. This chapter was a bit of a challenge to write, and thanks to my more musically knowledgeable beta Thursday for her help as usual!

* * *

><p><strong>A Staircase in the Darkness<strong>

**Chapter Six**

People were lining the streets, chattering in lively voices as they streamed into the concert hall. The air was filled with their conversations, buzzing with excitement that was nearly tangible to the empath. The time had passed slowly leading up to this evening, but it was finally here. Despite himself, he was foolishly looking forward to going to the concert with Tsuzuki; not only did he sincerely enjoy classical music, but going to an event like this together… It really was like a date, he couldn't help but think.

His eyes slid over to his partner, who was looking around with wide eyes. "There are so many people!" he commented, sounding surprised. "I didn't know this stuff was so popular."

Hisoka snorted. "It's timeless," he said. "Now come on."

The path into the hall was lined with lights that shone faintly within the dim evening atmosphere. It was a rather luxurious place, one of the finer in the area. The tickets hadn't been inexpensive, either, Hisoka remembered grimly. Now wasn't the time to think about Tatsumi and his constant headache, though. In some weird way, tonight would be a taste of what it could be like, if—no, tonight they were attending the concert together only so that they could properly play their roles at the function later. It was all about the case, and he needed to remember that.

It didn't seem to be weighing all too heavily on Tsuzuki's mind, however. When they were inside and heading towards the line to be seated, he surprised Hisoka by saying, "Aww, I should have brought flowers to give to you here!" Hisoka noticed that he was looking at a man presenting a bouquet of flowers to a well-dressed lady, whose face was positively glowing with her smile.

Hisoka was in a good mood, so he hit him lightly on the arm, rather than doing something uncharacteristic such as bursting into tears (although the confused, desperate part of him wanted to do that). Why did Tsuzuki have to have such an awful sense of humor? He'd been making jokes like that practically their whole partnership, but they had only really started stinging lately.

"Idiot," he said, hoping the pause hadn't been suspicious. "It's not like this is a date." It was partially a reminder to himself, too.

Looking chastised and almost disappointed, Tsuzuki scratched the back of his head. "I know, I know, we're here for work! But we might as well enjoy this part!"

Hisoka had to admit he had a point. He tried to disguise the small smile that rose to his face with a sigh. "We'll miss the start if we delay too long," he said as he moved forward, leaving no room for contest.

Their seats were pretty far off, but not too bad considering how close to the day they'd learned they needed to attend. The musicians looked tiny from here, but it was the sound that counted, and it carried magnificently. There was nothing like live music, and the beauty of the sounds produced cast a spell of fascination on the ears of the listeners. A quartet was playing; they weren't incredibly famous, but they were starting to gain recognition within Japan. Although far from an unparalleled performance, it was nevertheless a joy to hear.

Throughout the show, Hisoka could feel Tsuzuki's gaze drifting over to him occasionally. The glances increased in frequency the longer it went on. He still refused to meet them; for some reason, he had the impression that to do so would be to acknowledge something he didn't want to. Regardless, he couldn't help but wonder what he'd see in those eyes if he did turn his head—it would only take the most miniscule of movements. To satisfy that curiosity without actually doing so, he closed his eyes, reaching out with his empathy. It shouldn't have been as easy as it was to find his partner's feelings amongst the crowd; but there was no mistaking that distinctly _Tsuzuki_ feeling that only his emotions radiated. He felt… anxious? Nervously happy, perhaps, and something that he couldn't quite place was positively bubbling from him. It was times like these that he wished that rather than sensing emotions as he did, he could see them all conveniently labeled.

Still, even if it didn't make sense, it felt _right_ in the same way that so many things about Tsuzuki did. It was that sense of belonging that made something within him ache. He needed to stop thinking about this.

It was almost amusing, however, to feel the interest Tsuzuki had been feeling for the performance drain the longer it went on. This also led to longer stares, and Hisoka had to fight with himself not to fidget awkwardly under them. He insistently pretended not to notice, although he was tempted to cast a glare in his direction as a way of telling him to pay attention. Then again, watching wouldn't really help him be able to give an opinion on the concert afterwards. Hopefully he could talk his way out of any holes he may dig for himself… Well, if anyone could, it would be Tsuzuki.

Despite himself, Hisoka had gotten distracted, too, his mind hovering precariously just on the edge of understanding that wordless emotion. As such, he was surprised to hear the audience break out into polite, yet enthused, applause. He joined in only a little belatedly, and finally looked over to Tsuzuki, just to make sure he realized it would be time to go. He regretted it immediately; he was still looking at him, and yet somehow seeing the emotion in his eyes rather than merely feeling it didn't help Hisoka put a word to it. What he had been about to say caught in his throat. A moment passed of them sitting like that, neither able to break the eye contact, before they became aware of the people around them attempting to clear out.

Hisoka cleared his throat. "We'd better go," he said quietly, standing up. He felt empty and disappointed for looking away.

* * *

><p>Unsurprisingly, the dinner afterwards was meeting at a similarly high-class (and thus, expensive) restaurant. Both partners could practically feel the weight of the Shoukan division's economic secretary's judgment already. This was their chance, however, and Hisoka at least was certain it would pay off. It had to… their continued employment potentially depended on it at this point. The amount they'd spent was truly staggering.<p>

When the hostess led them to the table reserved by the group, the members had blinked in surprise at Hisoka's apparent age. He tried not to twitch too visibly.

"Good evening," he'd spoken confidently, steadily, just as he'd learned to conduct himself at formal events. "I'm Kurosaki Hisoka. I spoke with Ishida Jun'ichirou the other day about our joining you this evening."

Concealing his nervousness well, Tsuzuki smiled amiably from beside him. "My name's Tsuzuki Asato! Nice to meet all of you."

One of the men stood first, reaching out his hand for a handshake. "A pleasure to meet you." Hisoka recognized that voice from the phone conversation. He had to, again, hold himself back from showing his irritation on his face. Albeit reluctantly, he accepted the handshake. Perhaps he had applied a little too much force to it, actually, as the smile on the man's face darkened a little. "I'm Ishida Jun'ichirou, the group's president. There's no strict hierarchy, of course; I just make the reservations," he said, a barking laugh in his voice.

"Please, take a seat," a younger man called to them, gesturing to the vacant chairs next to him. He had been chatting with the woman seated across the table from him, and she now smiled at them, her aura friendly. They both seemed like the type who loved to talk, which suited their purposes perfectly.

They took their seats, Hisoka giving the man a courteous nod and a tiny, polite smile. Tsuzuki was beaming widely, hoping it would cover up for any missteps he might make. He'd gone undercover in affluent environments before, and he found it difficult to keep up with the unusual social expectations. Not to mention that the polite phrases seemed to change over the decades…

"I'm Tanaka Hiroshi," he said as he and Hisoka exchanged a much less forceful handshake. "It's always nice to get new members for our little group!"

The woman leaned over the table and whispered, "Especially with the rate we've been losing them at lately!"

Hisoka and Tsuzuki glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. Hiroshi just looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Oh, forgive me," she said as she realized she had yet to introduce herself. "My name's Sasaki Miyako."

Much to the disappointment of the shinigami beside him, Hiroshi seemed eager to steer the conversation away from the topic his friend had just broached. "Wasn't the performance something else?" he asked, turning to Hisoka and Tsuzuki.

Before Hisoka had time to answer, a scoff from Jun'ichirou interrupted him. "Depending on how you mean that," he said, tone rife with scorn.

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. The man's aura reeked of insecurity, possibly a superiority complex, backed up by those words. "The musicians were quite skilled," he answered evenly.

Both Miyako and Hiroshi nodded, but Jun'ichirou scoffed. Hisoka felt his eyebrow twitch in irritation. He couldn't stand people like that, although it would seem hardly anyone could. Seeming to notice that Tsuzuki had yet to speak, Hiroshi directed a smile at him. "What did you think, Tsuzuki-san?"

The spotlight now on him, Tsuzuki waved his hands, smiling nervously. "They sounded great!"

Miyako smirked, her eyes traveling to the only dissenter of the crowd. "Care to give your criticisms, Ishida-san? I'm sure we could all learn to hone our tastes more properly with your wisdom," she said, sarcasm dripping from her tone. Hisoka found himself cheering quietly that at least someone was openly hostile back, but the tense emotions in the air were giving him a headache.

"It was completely bland," he replied, sounding dismissive. "They may have been accurate, but it completely lacked the spark of emotion needed for their music selection."

Hiroshi hummed, but for the most part the table looked unimpressed. The newcomers had the impression that everyone was used to hearing nothing but criticism from him. No one seemed to have a direct response for the words, however, and Miyako took the lull of silence as an opportunity to interrogate the new additions. "What instruments do you two play?" she said, inclining her head towards them, surprising them with the suddenness of the question.

"I've studied the piano," Hisoka said, feeling confident enough that there was no way to be caught in the lie this time. "I haven't gotten very far with my studies, however."

"I haven't really started yet," Tsuzuki replied after the group had collectively nodded at Hisoka's answer. "But I'm thinking of taking up the violin… or maybe the piano, so that Hisoka could teach me!" He was smiling foolishly wide, his head tilted in his partner's direction.

Hisoka rolled his eyes. It didn't surprise him that Tsuzuki lied so casually. "I think it would be futile," he said, and as if on cue his partner pouted.

Miyako and Hiroshi both laughed quietly. "You two aren't related, are you?" Hiroshi inquired.

Hisoka wondered how suspicious it would be if he excused himself to go to the restroom right then. He needed to hit something, or scream. He'd hardly had time to think that, though, before he felt Tsuzuki's shoulder bump against his as he leaned in close, his arm reaching over Hisoka's other shoulder. "Nope!" he said, the grin practically audible in his voice. Hisoka flushed. What was he thinking? Now would have been a nice time for his empathy to upgrade to telepathy.

The table was quiet for a moment as they waited for a further explanation of just what their connection was, and the cogs simply kept turning when none followed, everyone quietly wondering if they were just supposed to assume… As that moment passed, Hisoka's disbelieving stupor wore off enough that he was able to shake free of Tsuzuki's arm. It was a horrible time to pull a joke like this, but Hisoka had to push it from his mind if he didn't want to become too upset over it. They were here for a reason, after all.

"We came mostly because we heard good things about these meetings from Tatsuya-san, and we were looking to meet musicians in the area," Hisoka said eventually, not bothering to be particularly subtle about the subject change. If they weren't going to mention the recently deceased member, he was.

All of the adjacent diners looked surprised at the mention of that name, some even stiffening up. Only Jun'ichirou smiled. "I'm pleasantly surprised to hear he spoke well of us. We mourn him, too, if not for any great contributions, only for his presence."

The partners met eyes at that, both with their eyebrows raised high.

"He always had an informed word," Hiroshi said quietly. "Just because he was chosen for the solo part you wanted back then… that's no way to speak of him now." His voice was tense, as if he was still holding back something, about to snap. Everyone looked shocked that he had spoken up. Miyako looked away, her mouth covered by the palm of her hand.

Jun'ichirou's face was still twisted into a smile. "There's no need to continue sucking up to someone once they've passed away, Tanaka-san," he said, pushing back his chair and standing abruptly. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

There was a heavy moment of silence in which the sound of his retreating footsteps seemed terribly loud. A cloud of negativity was thoroughly nestled over the group. The only thing that interrupted the unsteady quiet was the sound of a latecomer arriving, led by the hostess. His hair was a bit unkempt, Hisoka couldn't help but notice, most likely ruffled by the wind outside as he hurried to get here. This struck him as odd, considering how long ago the show had ended.

"Hey everyone," he spoke in a warm voice, completely oblivious of the tense atmosphere. "Sorry I'm so late!" As a few called out to him in greeting, he took the last vacant seat, next to Miyako. This placed him across from Hisoka, who cast him a curious glance.

"Nice to meet you," Tsuzuki addressed him, and only then did the man seem to notice that there were two unfamiliar faces seated across the table.

"Oh! The pleasure's mine," he said, inclining his head towards them. There was a moment when everyone around him was expecting him to proceed to introduce himself, but it passed in silence.

Looking a bit exasperated, Miyako elbowed him, eliciting a noise of complaint from the man. "Allow me to introduce you," she said, hoping to cover up for his slip. "This is my younger brother, Sasaki Kotarou. Kotarou, this is Kurosaki Hisoka-kun," she indicated Hisoka, who nodded, although he didn't put in the extra effort of a polite smile. "And this is Tsuzuki Asato-san," she finished, as Tsuzuki waved, almost giggling. Maybe he was relieved that there was someone else here who didn't quite know the proper etiquette.

"It's wonderful to see new faces around here!" He wasn't even embarrassed at his behavior. The sort of honest vibe his emotions rang with was a relief amongst such an atmosphere, actually. Hisoka idly thought that he'd like to hear him playing an instrument; he could imagine it would be delightfully vibrant.

"They're friends of Tatsuya-kun," Hiroshi said, giving him a serious look from across the table. Even as an empath, it was hard to place what the look was trying to say without knowing the man.

Kotarou straightened in his seat, his face losing the smile for the first time since he'd entered. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, sincerity in his tone.

Before anyone could speak further, Jun'ichirou returned to his seat, the waiter not far behind. With the whole party assembled, they'd need to place their orders. Hisoka frowned; he'd completely forgot the whole aspect of dinner that involved actually eating. His stomach felt like a tangled mess; the idea of eating anything at all was miserable. A peek at the prices printed on the menu would have been enough to make him nauseous, in the first place. Much to his horror, his partner ordered without restraint. He'd wanted to kick him under the table, but thought it would seem suspicious. (He also could have sworn that he'd seen him staring longingly at the dessert menu, but he decided to pretend he hadn't.) When it came to him to order, Hisoka just requested water and the cheapest salad on the menu, earning him a worried stare from his partner, which he thoroughly ignored.

As soon as the waiter's footsteps had faded out of hearing, Kotarou turned to Hisoka and Tsuzuki again. "Before Kotarou died…" he started, sounding nervous and trying to keep his voice down. "Did he say anything about… any of _us_ that seemed odd?"

Now _that_ was a pointed question if Hisoka had ever heard one. His eyes narrowed, he opened up his mouth to answer after exchanging a look with Tsuzuki. Before he had time to answer, however, a man's stern voice interrupted him. "Now, let's not waste time spreading rumors about the deceased," Jun'ichirou said, adjusting his napkin on his lap.

Kotarou looked disgruntled, clearly dissatisfied with dropping the topic. He cast Hisoka a desperate look that said in no uncertain terms, _We'll talk about this later_. Wanting to hear more about the man's suspicions, Hisoka nodded slightly. It would be hard pretending to have known him when speaking to his acquaintances, of course, but he could imagine there would be enough room to work within.

The meal passed by relatively pleasantly; most of the group consisted of very friendly people, after all, and Tsuzuki managed to get along splendidly with only the knowledge he'd gained from his study sheet. There had only been one mishap, when he had claimed that his favorite composer was Mandellsen, and only blinked in confusion when everyone laughed. He then joined in when Hisoka had reminded him that he meant _Mendelssohn_, his hands covering his face. Tsuzuki had been first and foremost pleased with the food, so much so that he had scarfed it down long before anyone else, and then proceeded to spend the rest of the meal attempting to make Hisoka finish his salad. It was, sadly, futile, but he did manage to get the young man to eat more than half.

As everyone was getting up, Hisoka purposely hung back, noticing that Kotarou was looking pointedly in their direction. After his eyes had followed Jun'ichirou's back as he headed out the door, he approached the two partners, looking anxious. "I'm sorry about this," he said, his look imploring. "But I'd really like to ask you a few questions."

Quietly pleased that they were getting this opportunity, Hisoka nodded curtly. "It's not a problem. His death left us with many questions, too." Tsuzuki stepped closer, looking concerned.

Sympathy in his eyes, Kotarou nodded in return, grateful that he had accepted. "Like I said earlier, did he mention anything odd about anyone here?"

After an instant of silent communication with his partner through brief eye contact, Hisoka answered. "He did." Kotarou didn't look surprised. "He mentioned… Ishida-san and him not getting along."

The other man snorted. "That's one way to put it. They seemed ready to kill each other."

Hisoka stiffened. So Kotarou suspected Jun'ichirou as well. Tsuzuki surprised him by chiming in, "After meeting him, I'm not too surprised that Tatsuya-san butted heads with him."

"There aren't many who don't," Kotarou smiled at that.

"Why do you ask, though?" Hisoka said, wanting to cut right to the chase. Kotarou was a pleasant man, but he wasn't in the mood for idle conversation.

At this, he looked uneasy. "I just can't trust Ishida-san," he admitted. "The way he talks about him, even now… and then, Satou-kun as well…"

Both shinigami were on full alert at the mention of the other victim's name. "Satou-kun?" Tsuzuki asked, feigned ignorance making his voice sound childish.

His eyes on the floor, Kotarou took in a deep breath. "He… We lost him, in a way really similar to Tatsuya-kun."

Remembering the letter addressed to Satou from his apartment, Hisoka asked, "Were they very close?"

"They were friends," Kotarou answered, thinking. "But not close enough to explain why Satou-kun would have gone so far as to… It just doesn't add up."

Hisoka couldn't help but notice Tsuzuki's fingers idly running over the band of his watch. He cringed. "We thought the same thing about Tatsuya-san," he said quietly. "We just don't understand what made him do that. It doesn't seem like him at all."

The other man nodded, his mouth turned down in a worried frown. "I just can't help but wonder if there isn't something more behind it all."


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Not to beg, but if you have the time to leave a few words in a review, I'd really appreciate it. I'm very grateful for all the favorites this has gotten, too, but some constructive or encouraging words would be lovely. Thanks, and I hope everyone enjoys.

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><p><strong>A Staircase in the Darkness<strong>

**Chapter Seven**

Hisoka found himself staring at the ceiling again. He was finally out of that suit, now changed into far more comfortable clothes. It was late, he had a headache, and he wanted to sleep, but he was waiting for his partner to come out of the shower so that they could discuss what they'd learned this evening.

It had been worth it from the perspective of solving the case, he told himself. They'd basically confirmed their suspicions about Ishida Jun'ichirou being involved in one way or another. He tried to push down the exhilaration from his own personal perspective, however—going to the show with Tsuzuki _had_ felt like a date, despite his protests to the idea. The worst part was how fun it would have been, if it really could have been one. Grumbling quietly, he pressed his hands against his forehead, reminding himself forcibly why such thoughts were a bad idea.

When Tsuzuki did eventually emerge from the bathroom, he couldn't help but notice how his hair, still a bit wet, clung to his forehead. He felt like a tremendous idiot. It was a dumb thing to notice, and just plain weird to think that it was attractive.

"So…" Tsuzuki was talking before Hisoka realized he'd forgotten to start the conversation he'd been planning on having. "What do you think?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if Ishida has made a contract with a demon," he said. "I could feel a lot of deep-seated resentment within him, and with the way he acted when the topic came up…"

Tsuzuki nodded. "I suppose we'll need to pay him a visit tomorrow."

"Yeah," Hisoka said, followed by some moments of silence, during which he slowly convinced himself that the conversation was over and they weren't going to broach 'the topic,' as Hisoka liked to call it. Said topic being the gigantic love-crush-affection-thing going on with them, of course. His eyes sunk shut, his breathing evening out.

"Hisoka." The word was said carefully, in a hushed tone, as if he wasn't quite certain the boy wasn't asleep. Hisoka debated pretending to be sleeping, but in the end he opened his eyes as a signal for him to go on. "I…" he trailed off, radiating a confusing, tangled mess of anxieties and hopes. It was a mass of contradictions; perfectly Tsuzuki. "I had a lot of fun earlier."

Hisoka debated how obvious it would be if he turned on his side to face away from Tsuzuki as a way to hide his blush. It was tempting, but he'd just look like a child, he decided. "Idiot," he said, and he wanted to hit himself when he heard just how awkward it sounded. "Can't you ever concentrate on work?"

Tsuzuki laughed lightly, and the sound made Hisoka's chest constrict. Or had that been because of the feelings he was sensing, that seemed to approach gently, like waves lapping on the shore? He closed his eyes again.

"Sorry," Tsuzuki said eventually, turning off the lights. His footsteps sounded quieter than usual as he crossed the room before sitting on the mattress opposite Hisoka's. "About embarrassing you at dinner, too…"

It took the empath a moment to realize what he meant by that: his unsubtle implication to the others about their connection. He snorted. "I'd think you would be the one to be embarrassed," he said, trying to make it sound nonchalant.

Right away, he could feel confusion from his partner. "I don't know why," was all he said.

_Okay_, Hisoka thought, replaying the conversation in his head. _So neither of us would be embarrassed if we were dating the other. Great. What now?_

"It's late," he ended up saying. "We should get some sleep."

A sudden, sharp disappointment shot through the room. Hisoka frowned, not understanding the emotion. "Yeah," came the reply. "Goodnight, Hisoka."

He was immensely frustrated. Tsuzuki, plainly and simply, made absolutely no sense. "Goodnight." The word felt like too little, falling into the quiet darkness.

* * *

><p>An early morning debate meant that it was around noon when the two partners departed for Ishida Jun'ichirou's apartment building. In the end they had agreed that it would be best to appear in their visible forms and attempt to get more information, to at least hear his side before invading his privacy by snooping around in spirit form. It seemed unnecessary to Hisoka, since it was painfully obvious that this man was involved. He had, however, grudgingly accepted that Tsuzuki had a point.<p>

It was even colder than the previous days, he was certain. Either that, or the wind had developed some clever method of bypassing his jacket. It certainly felt that way, he thought with a frown. At least they'd be heading back to Meifu relatively soon, presuming their lead panned out… Beside him, Tsuzuki somehow was managing to smile while also holding a donut between his teeth. He didn't seem to be affected much by the weather, as always. Hisoka sighed, the breath becoming a white cloud for an instant before fading into the air. The donut was gone by the time he looked back next, and his partner was looking right back at him. The sidewalk was suddenly fascinating to him.

Neither of them had said a word about the more personal aspects of the prior evening. Hisoka wasn't sure if he should be grateful or not. It was confusing, and they needed to focus on the case. Speaking of which, he'd need to be careful to be more alert this time, so as not to walk right past their destination again. He was glad he did, too, because they weren't far.

Tsuzuki wanted to say something. Hisoka had been feeling it tugging at the edges of his awareness all morning. The man was constantly thinking about how much he wanted to say it, whatever it was, and then different shades of doubt would filter through his mind, and he never said a word. He didn't even get to the point of calling his name, only to back out. It was just as frustrating, though; he was practically achieving the same effect, only through Hisoka's empathy.

Much to Hisoka's annoyance, Jun'ichirou just happened to live on the tenth floor of the building. It had been an awkwardly silent walk, on his part at least, but the ascent in the elevator far surpassed any such awkwardness. Tsuzuki was radiating nervousness, a cycle of deciding to say it and then changing his mind perpetually going about. Hisoka was about to yell at him to just pick one or the other, when the light finally blinked, signaling that they'd arrived.

They could hear piano music filtering through the door to Jun'ichirou's apartment. Tsuzuki knocked once, and there was a crash from within, the sound of something hitting the floor. The music abruptly shut off. Tsuzuki and Hisoka exchanged a look, eyebrows raised. Before he had the opportunity to knock again, the door swung open to reveal a haggard looking Jun'ichirou. His emotions were leaping off of him frantically, nearly overwhelmingly intense. Hisoka cringed.

"Good afte-"

"You two," the man said, his voice thick. "What do you want?"

"We have some questions for you," Hisoka said, fighting to keep his voice stable. His head was throbbing, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold up if this man didn't calm down.

Jun'ichirou shook his head rapidly. There was something in his eyes that matched the near lunacy of his emotions. "I don't have time for that," he spoke unsteadily. "I've almost got it."

Tsuzuki's eyes narrowed in suspicion. The pain throbbed intensely through Hisoka's head, and all he could do was press his fingers to his forehead in vain. Even if the man spoke with them after all, he would need to let Tsuzuki take the lead this time. It was hard to find room for his own thoughts amidst the storm of emotions coming at him in waves.

"It will only take-"

The door was closed before Tsuzuki could finish, and they heard the lock turning immediately after. The distance helped lessen the actual sensation, but the headache remained, pounding insistently. Tsuzuki had put a hand on his shoulder before he'd even realized it, and was looking down at him, eyes full of concern. Music was drifting in from behind the door again, and the pain was like a mist falling over a myriad of emotions that felt so near, even from this distance.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki's voice sounded almost unreal, far-off. "What's the matter?"

He tried, not even realizing what he was doing, to latch onto the concern, the caring, anything he could feel from Tsuzuki, as a way of steadying himself. It felt warm, secure, like a dry place amongst the rain. That was so very Tsuzuki, he thought, before darkness draped over him like a blanket, and finally those frenzied emotions were gone.

* * *

><p>That night, in his dream, there was a single light.<p>

The staircase was gone; he no longer felt the urge that tugged at his very core, impelling him to climb. His limbs felt light, filled with a delicate power, and it was only when the sound reached his ears that he realized that his fingers were flying over piano keys. It was a piece that came so naturally, flowing from his fingertips as water from a fountain, that it required no conscious thought. A song filled with longing, brimming with love to the point that it ached, sweetly and sharply. It was the most precious pain they'd felt, they'd delighted and shared in it together, through this song…

"_Meine Ruh ist hin_…"

It was her voice, nearly shaking with fragility and emotion, emotion so powerful it overwhelmed him. He thought he could see her silhouette in the light, her head bowed, her shoulders heaving. His fingers wouldn't leave the keys, the ivory feeling like water to his touch. Longing washed over him in waves, and he closed his eyes, willing the keys to be her delicate shoulder, her soft skin beneath his fingers again.

"_Mein Herz ist schwer_…"

The power flowing from his fingertips was like nothing else, more intense than any passion he'd felt. Was this what their reunion would be like, even in the waking world? Would they be together again, just like this, such an incredible emotion alight between them?

"_Ich finde, ich finde sie nimmer_…"

Distantly, he was aware that darkness was encroaching again. He hadn't even glimpsed her face again—only heard her voice crying out, perfectly in synch with his playing, as it always had been. His heart pounded, taking up the tempo of the piece, but he couldn't stop, each keystroke filled with an impossible urgency.

"…_und nimmermehr_…" (1)

Never again, never again indeed, would he be free of this longing. His peace of mind rested with her. As his finger was about to strike the next key, he was aware of the dream crumbling away.

Waking up felt like falling.

* * *

><p>When he next opened his eyes, Hisoka could still feel that warm, pleasant safety feeling. It took him a moment to process that that was his partner, seated on the bed across from him, gazing out the window. Again, it took a moment of admiring the way the orange light filtering in through the window illuminated Tsuzuki's hair and made his eyes shine for Hisoka to realize that the sun was setting. He sat up immediately, eyes wide open.<p>

His head throbbed in complaint of the sudden movement, but he ignored it. "What happened? When did I…?"

Tsuzuki looked surprised, happy, and worried all at once. It was confusing, but he managed it somehow. "Hisoka! You're awake." Relief reached him, quiet and gentle. "You passed out in front of Ishida's apartment."

The memory of it came back, but really all that he remembered was that intensely painful feeling of despair, and the sound of a piano playing. He rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, and continued despite the confusion Tsuzuki felt at the words. "I held back the investigation again… We should have gone in there in spirit form to see what he was doing."

"It's not your fault." There was the sort of conviction in his voice that meant he wouldn't allow further argument. "We can always go back again! Whatever it is, the evidence should still be there. We should probably wait until he'll be asleep, though."

Hisoka suspected there was a different motive to Tsuzuki wanting to wait; he thought he needed more rest. Sighing, he let himself fall back down onto the mattress. He might be right, in this case.

"And in the meantime, we need to eat some dinner!" Tsuzuki continued happily, pleased that he had yet to be overruled.

The younger shinigami muttered something in complaint at that. Food seemed horridly unappealing at the moment, even though he'd hardly eaten that day. Refusing food, however, would do nothing to relieve his partner's worry for him, which was already spiking after the noise of protest.

They'd ended up at the same cozy diner that they'd discovered previously. There was still something oddly tense about the atmosphere between them, as if it was ready to catch fire at the slightest spark. It was an odd thing to be aware of, and Hisoka couldn't help but wonder if Tsuzuki was, too. As usual, there was little indication to go off of. His feelings were clouded over strongly by the show of enthusiasm for the food, and he swatted away most attempts at serious conversation about the case. Hisoka sighed. It couldn't be more obvious that he was trying to get him to relax, afraid that the stress from the case was putting unnecessary strain on him. What with the fainting and all, Hisoka couldn't particularly claim it was unreasonable, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. Tsuzuki knew by now how much he hated being coddled.

His nerves were jumpy at best by the time it was two in the morning, the time they had deemed it safe to assume Jun'ichirou would be asleep by. Although he had been resting earlier, his eyes still stung a little in protest from being forced to remain open; it was a sensation he was very used to from sleepless nights. Tsuzuki was looking at him with that concerned, warm expression. He wanted to say something, and it was painful to feel it so strongly. No, that was Tsuzuki with the painfully strong feeling, on second thought. No, it was him, too. He wasn't sure. Sighing, he decided to figure that one out later.

"You'll be okay, right?"

Tsuzuki's words startled him; he had just assumed he was going to stand there in silence, longing to say something. That was what usually happened. "Of course," he said, but it wasn't as biting as he'd have liked it to be. "Idiot." It just sounded stupidly affectionate. He was the idiot here, he thought with dismay, wearing his feelings on his sleeve like that.

It might have been worth it though, because Tsuzuki's smile actually looked a little reassured.

"Let's just go already," he said, irritated, and teleported before his partner had time to fully realize he had meant right away.

It was only half a second, though, before Tsuzuki was standing right by him in the hall near Jun'ichirou's room. His head pounded in complaint at the use of power to leap here, but he ignored it studiously.

In spirit form, the two approached his door without even footsteps to give them away. Hisoka stopped abruptly, however, realizing before passing through that familiar music was again slipping out from within. _At this time?_

Exchanging a look and a nod, the two stepped through regardless. Hisoka immediately regretted it—once within, an intense wave of emotions hit him, nearly toppling him over. He gasped, his pulse throbbing loudly in his ears, but far louder was the sound of the piano, reigning over the silence of the room. He thought he heard Tsuzuki cry out, in surprise, concern, disgust—no, that wasn't a sound, that was a feeling, or at least most of it was. He'd screwed his eyes shut without realizing it, and the music was _inside_ again, like it had been before, twining its way past all the barriers he could possibly throw up, overwhelming him with the sense of loss, despair, longing…

His vision was unclear, and there wasn't a light on anywhere, but sight seemed like nothing, as totally eclipsed as it was by the music filling his ears, filling his heart, while also making the world feel impossibly empty. He was dimly aware that his knees were getting wet, absorbing some liquid that had been spilled on the floor.

_Oh_, he realized as his vision focused, _that's blood._

It was only when the playing of the piano stopped that he was aware that he was breathing again, and then he saw Tsuzuki's shoes getting closer—that was an odd angle to be seeing the world from, how strange—and then everything was dark.

Tsuzuki was left to shakily pick up his partner, now blissfully unaware of the horror they'd walked in to. Jun'ichirou lay limp on the carpet, just recently deceased. His blood was everywhere, and was currently staining Hisoka's jeans a deep red, almost black. Tsuzuki felt nauseous, a bitter taste in his mouth. In the end, he teleported out, bearing his unconscious partner and the disk he'd found in the stereo system. Once Hisoka woke up, he had a good idea what they'd need to do to close up this case at last.

Notes:

(1) – The song is "Gretchen am Spinnrade," from Goethe's Faust, which was set to music by Schubert. I really recommend listening to it! I picked it because it's a song of heartache, of missing one's beloved.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Final exams struck me. I really appreciate everyone who came through and reviewed, you guys are too kind. I hope this one is worth the extra wait!

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><p><strong>A Staircase in the Darkness<strong>

**Chapter Eight**

Emotions hung over the room like a storm cloud. It was the first thing Hisoka was aware of when he regained consciousness, but eventually memories of what they'd found in Jun'ichirou's apartment came filtering back. He really needed to stop doing this whole fainting at crucial moments thing, he thought with a sigh.

He felt the wave of relief before he heard Tsuzuki's voice. "Hisoka! Good morning," he sounded happier than he felt, but there was a hint of the storm even in his voice, which was a bit unusual.

"…Morning," he mumbled, turning on his side to face Tsuzuki. The mattress creaked in complaint, as unyielding as the thing was. It only lasted a moment, but he thought he felt an impossibly sharp pain in his neck. Shivering, he shook the sensation off.

There was a confusing, constantly shifting combination of determination and concern flowing about around Tsuzuki. He could somehow see it in the stare that met his eyes now, and he wondered idly if he'd see the same thing if he didn't have his empathy, or if those eyes would just trap him in contemplation of their depths. Not that they didn't do that even while he knew, the knowledge just helped ground him from falling into their mystery. "Do you think you'll be able to head out soon?"

The question took Hisoka by surprise. He was a little irked that it even needed to be asked, when he was clearly uninjured. "Yes," he said, stiffly. "But where to? Did you find something while I was…" he trailed off, knowing there was no need to say the infuriating words. As he spoke, he swung into an upright position, blinking rapidly in an attempt to free his eyes of the lethargy that clouded them. He hadn't noticed that Tsuzuki had stood until he heard his footsteps tapping against the floor quietly as he crossed the room.

"To investigate Adrian Mann's apartment," he stated, turning to Hisoka to show him the disk he'd picked up off the table. "This was the CD playing when we came in to Jun'ichirou's apartment last night." It was the same familiar disk they'd been finding with all of the victims.

Hisoka grumbled quietly. "They all liked piano music," he deadpanned.

Nodding, Tsuzuki put down the CD again, stepping a bit closer. "That may be true," he said, giving off that rare, yet heavy feeling of gravity. "But it's too much of a coincidence that they _all_ had the same CD."

"What of it, then?" Hisoka was starting to get annoyed. He wished Tsuzuki could feel the certainty their meeting with the man had given him that he wasn't involved. It was just… true, there wasn't much else to say about it. "It's not like a CD could have made them kill themselves. They probably just all knew him."

"There's something odd about the music on the CDs," Tsuzuki said, and Hisoka could feel that he was starting to feel irritated, too. They were both really too stubborn when it came to disagreements, but Hisoka didn't want to waste the time needed to pick apart an innocent man's apartment. "They all affected you in some strange way, didn't they?"

Of course he hadn't forgotten the pain and the feeling of how _wrong_ the recordings had made him feel, but the actual man playing in person hadn't had that effect. He narrowed his eyes at Tsuzuki. "It was just my empathy reacting to the afterimage of the suicidal feelings." There was some pain in his voice. Nothing felt worse than the sick insanity of someone about to take their own life, and just the memory of it reminded him of his partner sitting amongst black flames. Something felt caught in his throat suddenly.

"It didn't happen in Satou's apartment, when the recording never played, did it?"

Hisoka shook his head. "Listen," he said, "going there would be a waste of time. I could read his emotions… I _know_. He isn't involved."

"How?" Tsuzuki sounded angry, something Hisoka rarely experienced when they were alone together. "You're the one who needs to listen, Hisoka. There was something different about you the whole time we were with him."

There was a heavy pause, and something sickeningly acidic twisted in the pit of Hisoka's stomach. Was that Tsuzuki's feeling? He couldn't place it. "What are you talking about?"

"You were the one holding up the conversation, _smiling_ at him," Tsuzuki's brows were furrowed as he spoke, concern, confusion, and that biting feeling all twining together within him. "You didn't want to leave, even when we were done with our business there."

That wasn't how Hisoka remembered their visit, not at all. He looked taken aback as he thought about it; all he remembered was the soothing piano piece, and the irrevocable impression that Adrian Mann was totally unrelated to the case. Trying to sort through his own feelings and recollections, he kept on being overwhelmed by the evasively difficult to place emotion from his partner. He remained silent.

"It just doesn't make sense that you trust someone you don't know so easily," Tsuzuki tried again, and there was a bitter note to his voice this time.

It hit Hisoka like a great force. _Jealousy._ That feeling was jealousy. He laughed a little, a short, unsteady sound, void of any amusement. It was making Tsuzuki confused and anxious, he could tell that much. "I can't believe it," he said eventually, and a silence stretched before he continued. "You're _jealous_?"

Tsuzuki froze, looking horrified. Emotions flashed by too quickly for Hisoka to pick up on, before there was suddenly a muffler over them. It was like hearing a conversation through a closed door now; shielding made it only possible for him to pick up on vague impressions, to catch a word or two from within.

"You shouldn't let personal feelings like that affect your work," he continued when it became obvious Tsuzuki wasn't going to say anything. He held his gaze fiercely.

More feelings surged behind the barrier, tantalizingly strong, yet unidentifiable. Shields could be a relief when there were many people around, but now it was just plain frustrating. There was a spark of anger in Tsuzuki's eyes, and he could see that impulses were starting to come into play, now that the accusations had started. It was officially a fight, their first in a very long time.

"Am _I_ the one letting my feelings get in the way?" It was hardly a question, his hard stare boring into Hisoka. "You've refused to investigate this guy the whole time, despite how rational it would be to!"

"You seriously think I…?" He glared at his partner, incredulous, his voiced raised above what was necessary. "_Why_ would that even make you jealous in the first place?"

Something passed through Tsuzuki's eyes, something that made Hisoka's breath stop for the last instant of eye contact before the older man turned around, refusing to face him. "That's not the point."

"You're the one who's been acting off, you know," he said, more quietly. "I thought we trusted each other by now."

Tsuzuki's shoulders jumped a little at the words. Hisoka had to fight with the terrible impulse to reach out and run a hand down his back, something that was strong in him despite the frustration now barely dammed up, ready to release.

"It isn't about trust, Hisoka," Tsuzuki turned to face him again as he spoke. The anger was drained from his eyes now, which had softened in sadness. It was painful to look at that expression and know he'd caused it, but he was mad, mad at how terribly unfair this was.

"It is!" he shouted. "If you trusted me, you wouldn't constantly be hiding something from me like this!" It was terribly foolish and childish, but he could feel that distinct pressure behind his eyes. _No, no_, he thought, as if he could will them to remain at bay. He couldn't let Tsuzuki see him cry over something so ridiculous, as if his one-sided feelings weren't already painfully apparent to the other after his overreaction the other day.

"Hisoka…" There was a plea in Tsuzuki's tone, a desperation. "I know it's hypocritical, but you need to understand. I've been _trying_…"

"No!" he was really making himself out to be a child, now. He needed to get out, but he needed to say more all at once. "It's been so long now, and we even shared _that_—"

Hisoka had to stop himself mid-sentence, his expression nothing short of wounded as he gasped, hardly believing what he'd almost let out. They had never spoken in words about the terrifying union of pure, powerful emotion that had thrummed between them during their embrace in Touda's flames. Words probably couldn't even encapsulate it; it had been even more intense than synching, something far deeper than what a spell could do. He knew Tsuzuki had felt it too, and it had been the ultimate bond of trust, nothing left hidden, and it had been impossible to distinguish what was _Hisoka_ and what was _Tsuzuki_, and it had been so beautiful. He probably shouldn't be thinking that his own attempted double suicide had been beautiful, he thought dimly as his tear ducts persistently burned with a desire to betray him.

He heard the first few syllables of his name fall from Tsuzuki's lips before he was gone, the teleport so rushed that it was almost unfinished. It didn't really matter where he'd end up, as long as Tsuzuki wouldn't be finding him there.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until he'd been sitting with his face hidden among the fabric of his jeans over his curled up knees, letting the tears fall albeit reluctantly, for an indiscernible (but certainly not brief) period of time when he realized how ill thought out his decision had been. He hadn't wanted to waste time, had he? Well, now he had effectively stopped all progress on the case until they were ready to face each other again. He mumbled a profanity into the coarse fabric, hardly able to think past the intense, throbbing pain behind his eyes. He'd read time and time again that letting out tears was supposed to release endorphins that made you feel better, but they always just left him with an even worse headache.<p>

He also only fully realized he'd been in a deserted corner of Juuouchou's library once he lifted his face again. Luckily, him teleporting in here wasn't enough of an unusual occurrence to warrant the Gushoushin investigating his spiritual signature showing up unexpectedly. Regardless, he wiped furiously at his eyes with the back of his hands.

The real question here was if he should go back and try to patch things with Tsuzuki back together. The whole situation was a jumbled mess in his mind, with no sense whatsoever; it was maddening, as if there was this one key thing he was missing, that would let the other pieces settle into place and _click_ at last. He'd have to set about wrenching said thing from his partner's thoughts the next chance he had, really, because this was just… obscene.

In the end, he'd decided on teleporting back to the mortal realm, finding himself standing on a familiar street in Fukuoka. While talking to Tsuzuki about what had happened was an inevitability, right now he felt strongly that it would lead to more yelling, probably on both of their parts. If he were in Tsuzuki's position, he would yell at him, too, for disappearing like that without any warning or attempt at reconciliation. He sighed, shaking his head against the palm of his hand as if by doing so he could alleviate the pain there.

That was why he headed up the stairs in spirit form, heading for the apartment number that he fortunately was still able to remember. Rather than make things worse, he'd just head to Adrian Mann's apartment on his own, and see which of them had been right. There couldn't be any danger in going alone, he reminded himself as he stepped through. Not only would the man be away from home, presuming he had a job, but he also wouldn't be detected even if he were, for some reason, still within the apartment. Hisoka breathed a sigh of relief when the room was vacant and completely silent.

He passed through the main room, with the parlor piano he'd played for them on, peering down the small hallway, which gave access to the bathroom and, more notably, the owner's bedroom. Pushing down the instinctive feeling of guilt at trespassing into a living person's private space like this, he stepped in with a silent apology. There was a writing desk across from the bed—exactly what he'd been hoping for. The papers and notebooks laying on it had the appearance of an organized chaos, just barely avoiding the look of having been tossed at random. The first few Hisoka picked up off the top were half-begun compositions; none of them had gotten very far. He could imagine the sort of frustration each sheet had been abandoned with, could almost feel it radiating off of each one.

There was a bound book beneath, and Hisoka could hardly believe his luck when he picked it up and it turned out to be a diary. Opening it was really an inexcusable breach of a person's right to privacy, something he personally hated to have broken, but he did it anyways, his eyes eagerly scanning the pages. The entries were lacking dates, he noticed, and written in a careful, steady hand, the letters neat and uniform. The contents had him reading on even as a sick feeling twisted in his stomach at how terribly wrong it all was.

_I tried to commit suicide yesterday. The neighbors must have heard and called the police, because I woke in the hospital. I hadn't lost the blood fast enough. I still thanked the doctor, but I was frustrated. It was raining, like it had been for the last three days, but it isn't raining anymore today._

_The psychiatrist declared me sane, surprisingly enough, and I was discharged. I didn't think it would be so easy to get out; the staff is quite negligent, it would seem. Convenient. A man stopped me on the way out. He introduced himself as a doctor, but he didn't seem to work there. I have no reason to trust him, but he said he had a better solution than suicide._

_I'm starting to think he's right. If I kill myself, maybe I won't even be able to meet her again. But if what he said is true… then I can get her, and nothing can tear us apart._

Hisoka's eyebrows were raised as he blinked at the page. The entry ended there, and he turned the page over quickly, a feeling of foreboding settling in.

_I feel so free, so full of hope. I wrote a song today. My fingers just wouldn't stop. The keys felt like her skin, her hair, her touch. The notes sounded like her voice._

_That man must have been right. I can already feel that there's something special about the sound of my piano playing, and maybe there always was. Maybe I really can be her Orpheus._

_I called him. I couldn't stop shaking. He gave me a name, told me where to go. All I'd have to do is play for this man, he said, let him hear that song I composed after I lost her. There's nothing to lose. I think I'll go meet the man he told me about, and give him the recording I made._

…

_It really happened, just as the doctor said. I read about him in the newspaper this morning. He's dead. My heart's been thrumming so loudly since I saw it. My playing made him kill himself, just in the way I wanted to when I wrote it. How did that man know it could do that?_

_It doesn't matter. I called him again. He told me that I'd need to do it a few more times before the messengers of death would come to see me. That's fine. I don't care how many need to die, just as long as they take me, as long as I can go there and bring her back._

_It hasn't rained since then. The cold air feels so good against my skin. I'm grateful that I didn't die that day._

Hisoka cursed silently to himself. He'd been so foolishly wrong, he could hardly believe it. The story didn't make sense quite yet, but with the conclusions it was pointing to… This would be a terrible admittance to make to Tsuzuki later. He sighed, but read on.

_A few more have died by now, and I gave another man a recording. It feels natural now; I don't even need to seek them out. He came right up to me this time._

_I spoke to the doctor more about the messengers. He told me that I'll just _know_ when I meet them, that they won't feel right or human. How does he know so much? He told me that he knows the two who will visit me. I don't know why, but he told me not to let them know just yet, that they wouldn't take me there if I made myself obvious. I'm getting impatient, but there's no use losing my only chance._

_He told me to play the piano for them, to find an excuse even if it seemed odd. But this time I'll need to play something placating. I was surprised that my playing would affect immortals, but he said that it would work even better than it does on mortals, but only on the younger one. Even my voice should be able to control that one to an extent. Everything else has happened as he said, so I'll believe him._

_I've only seen darkness in my dreams lately. But I always wake up thinking I can feel her hand in mine._

…

_It happened. They showed up at my door._

_I played for them, and they left like nothing was wrong. I couldn't stop laughing the whole day after. Everything is just as he said! I just need to wait now._

_I think I'll write a singing part for the composition I'm working on. She can accompany me again, just as she used to! This piece will be my greatest; I can feel it._

Slamming the book shut, Hisoka muttered oath after oath. He'd been so manipulated by the man's spiritual power, which must have been focused through sound, that he hadn't even realized it had affected him at all. It must have been able to get to him through his empathy.

He only noticed the entrance of another into the apartment when he heard the door slam shut.


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: I'm so sorry that this took so long! My beta is very busy even over vacation. I had to give up and post this with only my own proofing job, so please excuse any errors you find. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I was truly honored and amazed at how many I received last chapter! Hopefully this will satisfy everyone. I'm also sorry to say that not much is left (but this isn't quite the end).

**A Staircase in the Darkness**

**Chapter Nine**

Hisoka froze, instincts from his time living inciting a panicked need to hide somewhere he wouldn't be discovered. No, he reminded himself, he could stand right in front of a mortal and not be seen while in this form. He placed the diary back down as quietly as possible. Despite himself, he couldn't help but subconsciously attempt to keep his breathing quiet.

Footsteps. The sound of leather and cloth shifting as shoes were removed. More footsteps, the quieter ones made by socked feet. Hisoka breathed, unsure why his heart wouldn't slow down. Something didn't feel right. The man would be in here any moment—he debated teleporting away. It would be the safer option, and it would mean that he could come back with his partner there for back-up.

His eyes narrowed. No, he'd stay and see if the man led him to any further evidence.

When Adrian stepped into the room, he was looking right at him. As Hisoka felt the surge of shock, it took him a second to realize that it was not simply his own at the uncanny way the man had managed to look him in the eye without seeing him—he _could_ see him.

"What a rude guest," he said, taking a step closer. His voice managed to conceal his surprise with sarcasm. "Entering a man's room without permission."

Hisoka took a step back, unease jolting through him. His hand went to his pocket that always held emergency fuda, gripping anxiously. "Adrian Mann." His voice betrayed nothing, only calm. "You will be receiving the judgment of Juuouchou for your crimes."

An unnerving peal of laughter burst through the small room. "So you'll take me there!" he sounded elated, bent over slightly with his hands resting on his knees as he eyed the shinigami.

_No_, Hisoka thought, feeling the now recognizable power attempting to work its way into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he tried to shield it as best he could, but it was not like the regular emotions his empathy picked up on. If the man continued talking, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop it from affecting him—it could essentially take over his mind, judging from what happened last time. He couldn't afford that. _God damn it, Tsuzuki. Where are you?_ The thought passed his mind before he could check himself. No, this was his fault; he was the one who came here without backup. He'd have to get himself out of this. No more relying on his partner. How could he ever hope to be on equal standing to him, if he couldn't even deal with one mortal?

"That won't work," he said, his expression blank. He let a cold, stern exterior cover his inner uncertainty. "Your tricks only work on humans; not on us. You'll only receive a harsher sentence if you fight."

Adrian laughed again, and Hisoka had to fight not to flinch—_wrong_, the cold touch in his head was so _wrong_, so disturbingly hypnotizing. "Is that so? I'm afraid my sentence means nothing to me… and you seemed quite _persuaded_ last time, if it is ineffectual."

Struggling to remain composed, Hisoka forced confidence into a slight smirk, although his face twisted slightly from the discomfort of the mental attack. He just needed to get him to stop for long enough… if he could bind him with the fuda… "Don't bother with arrogance," he said, fingers curling over one of the cards in his pocket.

"You'll take me there, but not for judgment," the pianist said, brazenly taking a step forward, ignoring Hisoka's words. "You'll lead me to where she is."

He couldn't help but cringe, just slightly, and he cursed himself for the slip. In one swift motion he had the fuda out, ready to chant the incantation. "Even if you went there," he spat out, "You wouldn't be able to bring her back to life. You were lied to, both about that and about your abilities. Give up."

That did give the man pause. His eyes wide, he spoke in a low, threatening voice. "I'm not foolish enough to trust you. You just want to come in between us!"

It took a tremendous effort not to clutch at his head, his fingers trembling around the slip of paper. There was something raw and powerful about the anger in Adrian's voice, something uncontrolled and nevertheless efficient as an attack. Compared to when he had attempted to utilize his voice as a means of manipulating the shinigami, it was actually much more effective in crippling retaliation, the mental equivalent of an actual blow. His power likely held a potential far greater than what he could tap into due to his own lack of understanding, Hisoka realized. That made him both fearsome, and very possible to overcome.

"_We_ are not the ones who got in between you," he said after the wave had passed, his grip remaining resolute as he tried to free his mind from the constraints of panic and upset inflicted on him unwittingly, searching for the calm required to use the fuda. Gritting his teeth, he thought of the practiced confidence Tsuzuki would throw the spell out with.

A bitter, quiet laugh, no more than a light pass of air, and the man spoke again, not letting Hisoka finish. "Ah, but I'm done with blaming fate for tearing her away," he said, again stepping closer. He was only a few paces away now; either he didn't realize the danger of coming so close to a shinigami who was fully prepared to defend himself, or he was confident that the effect of his voice would paralyze him, preventing any counterattack. "Now, I only see the point in blaming those who would interfere with our reunion!"

If it hadn't been for the very incapacitating feeling of insanity reaching into his own mind, Hisoka would have snorted at the man's words. They faced people with similar unbalances after losing loved ones somewhat regularly. He cursed his luck that this one ended up being able to exploit his empathy, something that normally came in handy in this profession. Indecision flashed across his features for an instant as he considered attempting to further discourage the man, before he forced unwilling limbs to hold forward the fuda, trying to calm his mind enough for it to supply the words as he chanted under his breath. The archaic spells were already close to meaningless syllables without the dance of foreign thought and influence breaking into his mind, obscuring his purpose and concentration. Even if he hadn't recognized the threat posed by the cards alone, the chanting seemed to be suspicious enough that he was on the alert now.

Only a brief moment passed in which he actually looked troubled by the incoming attack, however, before he smiled serenely. "Stop," he said, as if it was a perfectly reasonable request, nothing but calm authority in his voice. Hisoka really wished he could laugh at the foolishness of it, a mortal trying to order a shinigami, and he might have, if he had had enough of an upper hand. He couldn't, however, deny the way his incantation stuttered, stopping for a beat before he insistently churned out more words. It had been enough that he felt the power dissipate, and he almost cursed before starting again. The man posed no physical threat, he reminded himself, as Hisoka's inherent spiritual abilities would likely blow him away even if he didn't intend it were he to actually attempt to attack him. It was only the potential of losing control to the effects of Adrian's odd power with sound that had him restarting the binding spell with a sense of urgency. The slip didn't seem to have gone unnoticed, either, and he was opening his mouth to speak again—

Hisoka was aware of a surge of emotions in the much more natural way he was used to experiencing them, as an outside force on the perimeter on his senses. _Concern, realization, resolution_, and the next thing he knew there was a flash of white and an explosion of energy.

The impact of the spell had blown him back (or perhaps that had been the intent, he realized dimly as he watched the room move forward in a blur, to get him out of the range of the spell), sending the fuda flying uselessly from his fingers. He'd recognized the interloper to have been Tsuzuki by the time he met with the floor, taking in the sight of an infuriated and shocked Adrian bound by a familiar spell.

"Hisoka!"

Said mortal was first and foremost ignored in favor of his partner, Hisoka noticed with a sigh. He knew Tsuzuki didn't hold grudges, and definitely not against him, but he almost wished he would be angry with him for what he'd done, rather than so purely and honestly concerned. "Tsuzuki," he ended up answering dumbly, blinking as he looked up at him, still in shock from the sudden switch from danger to safety, his heart pounding. He felt as if he'd been suddenly pulled up after being submerged in water.

"Are you okay?" he was saying when Hisoka had shook himself enough to react, reaching a hand out to help him up.

Hisoka only briefly contemplated rejecting the hand before he wrapped unsteady fingers around his partner's larger ones, the influx of relief and affection helping steady him more than it should as he used the opposing force to lift himself easily. He blinked more, slowly, retracting his hand and trying not to think that it felt empty, ignoring the slight tingling sensation left in the touch's wake. "I'm fine," he said, although his mind was clearly still reeling from how far the man's power had reached within. "Thank you."

It was kind of amusing, how stunned Tsuzuki looked at that. Maybe it wasn't like him to admit owing thanks for something like that, when he should be trying to hide the obvious display of weakness, needing to be saved yet again. Oh, right. They'd been fighting before he'd run away. That's why it was surprising. Hisoka vaguely wished he'd conveniently pass out and wake up with his senses about him again, but consciousness seemed to be surprisingly insistent in its clinging to him, considering how eager it had been to leave him the past few days.

"It's not a problem, you know that," Tsuzuki replied through a smile, and he had the impulse to reach out and ruffle his partner's hair, Hisoka felt before he actually went and did so. His empathy must have gone completely insane under such an intimate attack, because it was as if he could feel _everything_, as if all his and Tsuzuki's shields were both destroyed. That is to say that the gesture filled him with this, frankly, stupidly warm and glowing feeling, and it certainly wasn't the time for that.

In seeking to focus his eyesight somewhere that wouldn't lead to more embarrassing thoughts about his partner and the really foolishly attractive way his eyes lit up when he was pleasantly surprised like that, he remembered the bound and struggling musician whose apartment had become the scene for this strange event. It looked as if Tsuzuki's spell had, thoughtfully enough, bound him enough that speech was impossible, which explained the total absence of the invading touch of his power. Tsuzuki seemed to follow his gaze and also remembered the man like an afterthought, turning to survey him now that his partner's safety had been assured.

"He knew about us," Hisoka said suddenly, before he could ask, carefully avoiding the overhanging reality of how wrong he'd been. At the very least he could let it go unsaid and merely presumed. "And yeah, he controls emotions through sound or… something. Watari-san would probably be fascinated," he noted with a distinct lack of interest, trying not to sway from the succession of feelings coming from Tsuzuki. He ended up mostly baffled and distressed as he worked out the implications.

"I guess we'd better… take him back with us?" Tsuzuki observed the man with a weary eye. He had no chance of breaking free from the spell, but it didn't stop him from looking incredibly unhappy about it. His face was twisted into an expression of rage that was cringe inducing.

Hisoka let out an exasperated sigh, burying his forehead into the palm of his hand. "Just make sure you don't let him free once he's there," he muttered. "_Someone_ gave him the idea that he can bring back his dead lover if we take him to Meifu."

Something like sympathy passed across Tsuzuki's heart, a dark feeling that he didn't allow to linger. Hisoka might normally not have caught it, and it was unsettling to have his empathy picking up every single thing like that.

"You know," Tsuzuki was saying with a smile before he'd had time to even register the flash of an idea coming across. "Maybe we _should_ pass him off to Watari!" _That way you can rest._ The thought was so clear and loud that it was just as if he'd spoken it. Hisoka wondered if that hadn't been intentional.

He should have told Tsuzuki off for being lazy and wanting to push off their responsibilities, but something about the idea was too appealing to be denied. Tatsumi wouldn't approve. He nodded. "It seems like a fitting punishment for him," he said, perfectly deadpan. "I mean, assuming he'd just be passing him along for judgment for us."

Tsuzuki cast a wide-eyed look of amazement at him before he was across the room, an enthusiastic arm around the frozen culprit. "Yeah, of course! I'll meet you back at the hotel room then, Hisoka!"

He must have been going insane, because he laughed a little at that. "Alright," he said, giving him a look that hopefully conveyed, _And we'll talk about this then._

His partner and his unwilling cargo were gone in the next instant, and Hisoka soon followed suit in disappearing, leaving the apartment empty, the air buzzing with the left over impact of the power.

* * *

><p>It seemed to have been a pattern throughout this endeavor that Hisoka would end up laying on that stiff mattress, eyes roving over the featureless ceiling. His head was pounding incessantly, and his pulse refused to slow down. Moments stretched on that felt both long and short, with nothing happening, the possibility of Tsuzuki's return growing more real with each passing one.<p>

He wasn't sure what he'd say. How would he explain himself without just coming clean and admitting things that would destroy their partnership? Did he even need to say anything to make that admission, when it was so obvious after what he'd done? His eyes shut, he ran a hand absently over his bangs.

The more he thought about it, the less sense any of this made. That moment he'd slipped up and mentioned, when they'd shared that intense connection, had to be something they both remembered. He both cherished and feared the memory of it; it had been so amazing, enough to leave him breathless, and he'd felt so whole, enough to not even tremble at the thought of oblivion. For a while after he'd awoken, before Tsuzuki had regained consciousness, he'd thought what he'd felt there meant that his odd love was returned; it had certainly felt that way, then, with the feeling permeating the very air of the tiny space between them as they clung to one another, the last vestiges of solidity in a world that was slipping away. He'd realized it had only been his own sometime after they'd neglected to speak of the experience. Tsuzuki must have known and felt too awkward about it to mention it, which explained his return to shielding after the event.

Hisoka sighed, trying to ignore the painful and yet bittersweet ache that was as insistent as his heartbeat. Why did he have to foolishly reminisce to make himself emotional like this when he was already reeling over how this conversation was going to go?

He was aware of the bundle of nerves and anticipations before Tsuzuki even materialized in the room (and really, couldn't he have appeared in the hallway and knocked?), which sadly translated to the fact that his empathy was still bouncing off the walls for some reason. He sighed. "Welcome back," he said as he forced his muscles into motion again, lifting himself into an upright position.

"Hey," Tsuzuki replied warmly, his head tilted and that painfully honest smile on. The emotions behind it tore at him, so contradictory yet sincere, pain and joy, hope and fear. "Watari was overjoyed to receive our present." Amusement at the recollection now joined the mass that was already enough to make Hisoka's head swirl.

"I'm glad that's done with." He let silence fall only for a brief moment before he spoke softly again. "I'm sorry."

Tsuzuki was bewildered and taken aback, his eyes wide as he surveyed his partner with near disbelief before his smile returned. "You don't need to apologize," he said. "I was wrong, too."

Except that he really hadn't been the one at fault in their argument, and Hisoka knew it but he didn't say anything, simply looked blankly at those warm purple eyes. For the second time that day Tsuzuki gave into the impulse to reach out and touch, one he normally tried to suppress for his partner's benefit, and he buried his long fingers in blonde locks, stroking gently in something that ended up being more intimate than merely ruffling his hair as one would a child's. Hisoka was almost stunned by the influx of emotions, so much more than he was used to. And nestled there he felt so much warmth that it almost brought stupid tears to his eyes, and he really wished they could have this conversation while he was _sane_, because there was clearly something wrong with him right now because he was fairly certain he felt love and acceptance and desire and _home_ coming from the other. There was an epiphany in his eyes as he looked up at him, one he normally wouldn't even dare to think, nevermind accept.

He only regretted that this time the connection was one-sided, that Tsuzuki could feel none of this.

In fact, the man seemed rather pleasantly bewildered at the raw display of emotion in his eyes. "Hisoka," he was saying, even as his words were overwhelmed by the waves of emotions, because his hands had reached down to circle around Hisoka's own, and he might pass out if it got any stronger, but at the same time he didn't feel like he could. It felt too natural, something he was unused to ascribing to feeling another via his empathy. He really should have shaken off those hands, his sensible self would have wanted that, but said self was currently in catatonic shock over this revelation of how mutual these feelings felt right now.

It was only then that he realized that he'd been saying Tsuzuki's name, and he promptly turned scarlet, not even sure what he wanted to say. He'd regret this once he'd gotten some sleep and his senses were back to normal, that much was certain. No, he was too hopeful and happy—no, that was Tsuzuki, not him—or was it? It didn't matter.

In retrospect, Hisoka realized that it _had_ been him to lean forward first, but he would insistently point out that it wasn't like Tsuzuki hadn't been the one to close the remaining distance, bringing their lips together in a unity that didn't feel all too different from what he'd been feeling all along, just with a feathery touch of the physical that was at once so small and yet larger than his comprehension, something so brief and fleeting, changing everything and yet nothing at once. He could have sworn, though, that there was a fire between them now, and he only hoped that his strange power was enough that they both felt it in that odd almost-synchronization they'd fallen into before. It was only after they'd parted and were staring in shock at each other, both equally surprised that it had _actually happened_ when it seemed so impossible for so long, that Hisoka was aware of how hard and fast his pulse was pumping through his ears, almost deafeningly loud, and his hands were trembling within Tsuzuki's grasp.

"I," he said, instinctively running his tongue over his lips, blinking hard. The words didn't want to come out, and he wasn't even sure what they were. "I guess that explains a lot of things," he eventually decided on.

Tsuzuki was laughing, the sound so honest and pretty that it hurt a little. It really shouldn't have though, now that he was finally right here, and they weren't about to lose their lives, there was no ash and smoke obscuring his vision, this was really just the two of them.

"It does," Tsuzuki smiled, and it felt for that moment like the light had chased away the shadows normally lurking behind it. Hisoka knew then that he must have felt it, too, and he couldn't help but smile back, although moving his facial muscles to open so wide felt awkward, when he could hardly remember the last time he'd done it. Some part of him hoped to grow accustomed to it again.


	11. Epilogue

**A/N: **I don't even know what to say about the huge delay for this last part. Yes, it's the end! I owe everyone so many thanks and apologies if you stuck around to read this whole piece. I had a lot of fun writing it, even if by now all I can see are its flaws (hopefully you don't feel quite the same way). I've actually had the first few chapters of a sequel written for a while, but its plot is giving me trouble. Naturally, things just couldn't be all peachy for our beloved pair after this (although you can imagine they are, if I never post the sequel). I hope this end is satisfactory, regardless, and thank you again to all readers.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

It was with a much more pronounced flurry of motion that the door to Tatsumi's office closed behind the other Kyuushuu partner, approximately one week after his odd meeting with Hisoka. The secretary's glasses were slightly askew as he stared at the wooden surface of the door, which was by all means innocent, and rather indeed a victim of the situation as much as he was. The real one to be pitied here was the manila folder that had ended up thrown on his desk, which was filled to the brim with papers, much to Tatsumi's surprise. The shinigami leaving it had been a conspiring ball of excitement, leaving with a wink and a happy skip. Very suspicious, if not as out of character as Kurosaki's behavior had been when dropping off his version of the report.

He didn't bother going through the process of reminding himself that he shouldn't technically rush to read the file. It was a lost cause; the stretch of time between his receiving the suspicious first version and now had only worsened the dire need to know just what had occurred during that fateful week of case work. He managed to push down his irritation at the fact he first noticed upon flipping the folder open: it was written in an odd assortment of pencil and green gel pen… the sparkly kind. He'd post a reminder about the 'black or blue ink' rule later. Other than that, the only immediately visible anomaly was that it was exceptionally _long_, especially considering that Tsuzuki normally made his reports as short as he could manage to get away with.

The report should answer his questions, Tatsumi reminded himself before setting to reading.

* * *

><p><strong>Case 2-137-12, Fieldwork Report<strong>

**Employees deployed:** Tsuzuki Asato, Kurosaki Hisoka

**Date arrived on site:** 3/12/99 (Evidence of a different number having been written in as the year remained despite a lazy erasing job over the mistake.)

**Date returned:** 3/19/99

**Location:** Fukuoka City, Kyuushuu region

**Cause for investigation:** Suspicious looking suicides happening across Fukuoka City, when the souls weren't on the record for dying any time soon

**Case status:** Closed

**Summary of the case: **Dear Tatsumi,

I'm going to write this all here because I know that Watari isn't going to last much longer, and I'd rather tell you myself, but it's too much to really tell you face to face. This way, I think you'll understand it all. I didn't know how you'd react, so I didn't want to just blurt it out suddenly, either.

Tell me once you read it though!

-Tsuzuki

* * *

><p>Tatsumi's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline at the odd introductory note. Not only was it a complete breach of commonly understood report filing etiquette, but it also seemed to reflect a lack of understanding of just for whose sake the employees were filing reports in the first place. Regardless, he couldn't help but smile fondly for just an instant before he smoothed over the expression, reading on with renewed interest.<p>

* * *

><p>We set out the same morning we were briefed on, to go investigate the apartment where the last victim, Ishida Akira, had died. Something was up with Hisoka, and I could tell, not just because of that magic partner telepathy we get sometimes, but because he actually acted a little absentminded, walking right past the building we were looking for. He'd also been kind of sulky when I got distracted by muffins, but that isn't too unusual, sadly. He'd get really mad if he knew I called that being sulky (but I think I'm a little right). When we were investigating inside the room, I noticed the light was blinking on the stereo. It seemed kind of out of place, so I went to check it out and ended up hitting the play button. It was a recording of piano music, but it had an inexplicably strong effect on Hisoka, which he described as affecting his emotions… He looked to really be in pain, and I managed to remember the symbol that meant 'stop' under those circumstances, thankfully. I really wanted to reach out to him after that, since he really needed someone, you know? But I didn't let myself, like usual.<p>

You see, I'd been talking to Watari before we got assigned this case… about me and Hisoka, because he nosed his way in and made me fess up. I mean, I'd known for a _really_ long time how I felt about him, and I think you have too, Tatsumi. And since Hisoka seems to pick up on pretty much everything else I'm thinking, I figured he knew too, even though I tried not to make it too obvious and make him uncomfortable. But Watari told me that he was 100% certain that Hisoka didn't know, and he told me all these crazy hypotheses about what he was thinking, which amounted to both of us thinking the same thing about the other. He said everyone was sick of watching the two of us not saying anything when it was so obvious to everyone else how we both felt… And I know Watari isn't always the best source of reliable info, but I kind of wanted to believe what he said.

So he talked me into trying to say something as soon as possible, and it was kind of looming over me the whole time. But anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, I wanted to go back to the hotel so that he could rest after we took out the CD. It gave the name of the guy who played the music on it, Adrian Mann, and it seemed like enough for us to go off on to investigate some, and he really needed to lie down. He didn't agree, of course, you know how he doesn't want to let himself be weak (even when it would hardly mean actually being weak, of course). But we had to leave anyways, because the neighbor overheard the music playing and got scared. As soon as we got back, I made him lie down, and he ended up passing out right away. So cute! But I was concerned because it looked like his empathy would make this case really tough on him… Not to mention that I think it made him remember what almost happened with us, what I wanted to do, just as much as it reminded me. After all, it wasn't just me who was going to… I'm sorry, Tatsumi, I'll stop writing about this now.

So I was trying to think how to make his pain better, after I finished looking up where Adrian Mann lived, of course. When he woke up he was all flustered about falling asleep, and he insisted we go right then to check out his apartment. I knew that once he'd made up his mind like that, he wasn't going to change it, so I didn't put up a fuss, since it didn't seem like it would make things any better.

Now, this is where things got really strange. We went to his apartment, and this Adrian guy was home, so we decided to go in saying that we were friends of Tatsuya Akira, and we'd heard about him and wanted to talk to him about Tatsuya. Frankly though, this guy gave me an odd, creepy feeling from the beginning. He always sounded cool and composed, and he didn't really bother making nice about the idea that we had just lost our friend in such a way. He didn't have much human warmth, I guess. But Hisoka acted really weird when he was talking to us, giving answers when he normally wouldn't, and he showed an interest in hearing Adrian play the piano. So he did, and he played this really calm piece that left Hisoka in this bizarrely calm mood despite everything. I got us out of there, because he didn't have anything to say to help us out or really indicate properly his involvement, and because I could tell something was off.

So, when we got back, Hisoka was weirdly quiet for a while, just lying down and staring off into space. Then when he came back to himself, he acted surprised when I said that I thought Adrian Mann was suspicious. He insisted that it was just a gut feeling of mine, so we should ignore it and keep looking for other clues at the other scenes. It was kind of odd, but he seemed dead-set on it, and he did have a point. There hadn't been any hard evidence that something was wrong during our visit… But I did manage to convince him to let us go out to dinner before we went on investigating! It was this great place, too~ I think even Hisoka didn't mind it too much. But he started getting curious when I lapsed into silence. I couldn't help it, I just couldn't stop thinking about what Watari had said about his feelings! And I needed to think about it a lot before I said something and ruined our relationship beyond repair, you know? But then when I admitted I was thinking about him, he got all embarrassed… It's just impossible to win sometimes, you know? But that's okay.

Anyways, I ended up wasting a lot of time at the diner. The waitress was a tough bargainer! They usually let me get at least a little discount, but she was really resilient. Hisoka wasn't happy with me, but I think it was for the best that we didn't go out again that day after all. He really needed more rest, and pushing himself too far wasn't helping anyone. I don't mind looking like an idiot if it will be better for him.

The next day we headed to the previous victim's apartment. Hisoka was kind of grumpy about the night before, so he had me go through the boxes left behind by the guy's family, who had moved most of his stuff out already. And I found with the rest of his CDs one just like the one we'd found at the previous scene—with the obviously suspicious guy's name on it, again. When I showed it to Hisoka he still wasn't convinced, though, and he showed me this calendar that had been left, too, with a date marked on it when he attended a concert that Tetsuya Akira had gone to. I had to admit that that was suspicious, too, so we agreed to look into what could have gone on there (instead of going back and raiding Adrian Mann's apartment looking for evidence). It was a total bust, though, because the place was huge and any classical music fan in the area would have been at that performance.

Hisoka was really upset because he saw that as him wasting our time, even though it could have been a really good lead and it wasn't like I knew better, either, you know? But he was acting kind of sulky and off, like he had been for a lot of the case. And then I ended up looking at him a little too long and thinking a little too much and yet too little, because before I knew it I'd started talking and I don't even think I knew _how_ I was planning on telling him. I backed out, of course, once he prodded me to go on, and I thought he'd just yell at me for being absent-minded or something… But he was really hurt, because I wasn't trusting him with it. I didn't know what to do with his honest admission to it. It's funny that he's more ready to trust than I am, isn't it?

He wouldn't even let me apologize, though, before he changed the subject back to the case. I know, I know, we were on the job and all, I won't complain, Tatsumi! Anyways, he said he thought there had to be some power at work manipulating people's emotions. We thought that maybe it was a demon under contract by some other musician who was jealous of these guys and wanted them dead. Of course, we were just guessing, and had nothing left to do but pour over the files. I think you know it too, that point in the case where you just get this bad feeling and know that you'll be waiting around until someone else dies. It feels awful.

And the next day, someone else had died. I guess I didn't hide how guilty I felt about it—and I know Hisoka wouldn't want me to anyways, he hates that—but what really surprised me was that he actually promised, said we wouldn't let another die. He really wasn't being like himself, but I also must have really been worrying him with my own odd behavior to get him to do that. Just because it was so uncharacteristic though, it forced me out of feeling depressed and guilty; I didn't want his caring to go to waste, after all.

Of course we stayed perfectly on task like the exemplary employees we are! So we went right to the guy's apartment, but it had a really strong impact on Hisoka through his empathy once we walked in. By then it was pretty obvious something unnatural was going on with the emotions involved in this case. But he even grabbed onto my arm when it made him stumble—he really trusts me, even if he gets embarrassed about that kind of thing afterwards. But right, the apartment, we found _another_ one of those CDs. His continued denial of this Adrian Mann being involved was getting harder and harder to understand. He did, however, find a bigger piece of evidence (or what seemed to be at least): a letter connecting the latest victim with the previous one. They were both members of this classy music appreciation group thing, and there was going to be a meeting to go see a fancy concert later that week.

Hisoka decided that we should work our way into the group, so he looked up the contact information of a still living member mentioned in the letter (and it seemed like he had been fighting with the two deceased guys, to boot). So, in short, we were going to have a nice evening out together at just the kind of event he'd actually be able to enjoy—so lucky! I knooow, Tatsumi, I shouldn't think things like that while I'm working, but it's not like we didn't get the work done, too! But then Hisoka said I'd need to learn to talk like I knew about classical music, and gave me this scary list of foreign names I should know to answer different questions they'd have…

I was all nervous and excited about how the pseudo-date-case-work (I'm sorry don't kill me I'm sorry really) would go, and wondering if I should try and use it as an opportunity to say something. So, I decided I needed to communicate back with base operations, and I got in contact with Watari to fill him in and ask for advice. …About the case, too, yes! I wasn't slacking off. He whooped and egged me on, but we agreed I should try _before_ we actually went out just in case it was really awkward when we had to go eat dinner with the musician people. Watari's a good friend, but some of the things he says sometimes, really… Anyways. I didn't want Hisoka to be too suspicious, either, though, which is hard with the whole empathy thing and all. I don't think he'd even thought of how much like a date it was though.

He seemed totally shocked, after all, when I tried to bring it up jokingly over dinner. It was a totally innocent comment, too! Just suggesting that instead of me memorizing his list, we just tell them I was only his date and knew nothing about music… I thought he'd just throw something at me and tell me I wasn't going to get away with being lazy at the cost of his dignity (or something to that effect). But he looked really… hurt. And what he said surprised me most of all. "No one would believe that." He sounded so… disappointed? I didn't know what to believe. I knew how I _wanted_ to take that, but that seemed too impossible. He said he looked more like my younger brother. …I kind of felt like I was a creepy pedophile once he put it that way, but anyways…

I couldn't decide if it was a perfect opportunity to say it or not—if he was trying to say, "I know how you feel and it frankly creeps me out" then it would make things painfully awkward, but if he was saying, "I'm afraid you'll only ever see me as a child"… I could imagine that would be Watari's interpretation. I ended up not being able to decide that night. I think I just mumbled something vaguely suggesting that I didn't think it was that weird. (Which I don't, does that make me weird? Oh well.)

The next morning, after barely surviving that dinner, I got up early and called Watari to update him on what had happened. He seemed really shocked too, but he told me (like I expected) it was totally the second option and he had some horrible solutions in mind that I won't detail here, but he told me I definitely needed to make use of the evening out to make him feel like I didn't see him that way. Determined again but feeling scolded all the same for my tactless behavior there, I headed back with a pastry I was sure he'd actually like for his breakfast. He was using the shower, so I set about memorizing the answers he'd written out for me. And when he came out, he smiled at me! I thought I was seeing things. He wasn't mad! And he liked the pastry! Maybe the damage wasn't so bad after all.

Tatsumi, promise me you won't get mad about the next bit. Please! It was work-related- even required! But we went to go rent suits to wear to the meeting. We would have been so out of place and suspicious without them! The expense was needed! Really! And he looked so good in it, and I don't know how he didn't notice right then how I felt, because I don't think I did a very good job of hiding it (or if I was trying or not, in retrospect, but I don't think I was even considering it). Um. Anyways!

The show was at this really nice place, and it was filled with all these well-dressed rich people. If I had money and we were actually dating, it was totally the kind of thing we'd do! I couldn't stop thinking things like that. He seemed pretty happy about it, too. He didn't even get that mad at me when I said something I probably shouldn't have about buying him flowers… which I didn't do so don't kill me and if I did it wouldn't be with the case funding I swear! I think I was really obvious. The whole time. I mean, the performance was great, but… (There are signs of a sentence written and erased, then written on top of here.) Okay, I won't write that, on second thought. It was really great though!

And then we went right off all business-like to meet with the people we came for! The members of the group were all really nice and friendly, other than this Ishida Jun'ichirou guy, the one the two victims had been arguing with. He behaved very suspiciously whenever the deceased members came up, and even said disparaging things about them. So really, we did gain evidence towards the case by coming! Well, what we thought was at the time, at least. It seemed pretty reasonable to think that Ishida might have a contract with a demon or something that was taking out his enemies for him, and at least one of the other members approached us with his own suspicions against him. (They also asked about how Hisoka and I were related… That was kind of depressing, but I used it as a chance to slip in an implication that we were involved! Watari would have been so proud.)

When we got back we convened on what we'd learned about Ishida, decided to go interrogate him the next day, etc. The real big thing… well, I didn't want to let it go without saying anything, you know? Even though I was afraid it would make him feel awkward. I told him I'd had fun, which I figured was innocent enough. He turned a little pink I think, but he seemed almost happy when he scolded me for not thinking about work enough. I apologized for what I'd done to make everyone think we were together, too. He seemed kind of surprised, but then he ended up saying, something like, "I thought you'd be the one to be embarrassed." He really kept on saying new things to surprise me! Why would I be embarrassed about people thinking that? I was the one always making little comments at him about it. I told him as much (okay well, not in that detail) and then he just said we should get some sleep. Which, well, was true, but I liked where that conversation was going. I guessed that he wasn't as ready and waiting for me to say something as Watari thought.

The next day, we argued again, about how to approach investigating Ishida. It was a pretty typical difference in approach that comes up with us a fair amount, but we agreed to go talk to him personally in the end. When we got there, he wouldn't let us in; he said he almost had something and just closed the door on us, irritated. We could hear music from within. Hisoka seemed really intensely bothered about it, in a lot of pain, and then he passed out.

That really took me by surprise. He isn't the sturdiest, and he really needs to eat more, but he generally doesn't pass out that often (in the winter, at least). I took him back though, and he didn't even wake up until sunset. I was starting to think of taking him back to Meifu to have Watari take a look at him, but I figured he probably just needed that rest really badly. Someone acting emotionally unstable like that must have just set him off because he hadn't been taking care of himself. And when he woke up, he even apologized for holding us back. He's too serious about work, really. I was happy that he didn't protest when I said we should wait until Ishida would be asleep to go back; he really needed some food and rest.

The whole time, I was considering saying something. I couldn't make myself just jump into it on impulse, though. It must have been really obvious to him. I kept backing out before I could even try; after all, this was a really bad time to just whip out something like that: I've been in love with you for a long time now, let's go interrogate this guy about demons! He'd have hit me. Even Watari wouldn't have said that was a good idea.

When we got there, though… Music was playing again, that crazy piano music, and when we stepped in, he'd already died. It didn't take much to confirm that he had done as the others had; the blood was everywhere. By the time I managed to stop the CD and take it out, Hisoka had collapsed. I can't really blame him for that one; even without empathy it was a hard thing to bear.

He woke up the next morning, and well… Thinking back on it, it's kind of… okay, really embarrassing, what happened next. But I said we should go investigate Adrian Mann's apartment, because it was pretty damn clear by then that he was the key behind the case; after all, it was his recording of weird piano that seemed to have been playing during the suicides. But Hisoka actually protested _again_, saying that he "knew" that this guy wasn't involved. I was getting irritated at that point, and I guess I let it show at least to his empathy that I was… okay, jealous, after how he'd acted right upon meeting Mann, and how he refused to investigate further. I know it's silly! But he really trusted him right off the bat, and I couldn't forget how oddly he'd behaved when we met him. But Hisoka called me out for it, and got mad in turn, asking why I even thought that and why I'd even be jealous. I just… I'd been so foolish not to hide it well enough, and I couldn't express to him why. I knew he'd see it as a breach of trust, but I couldn't, and I told him as much.

Then he—well, he brought something up that was something we had a silent non-disclosure agreement on. I don't think it will be easy for you to read about it, Tatsumi, and I'm sorry. But Hisoka's actions really make no sense without understanding it. When he came to me in the basement of Shion University, actually in those moments you'd found us in, and we were both… determined, ready for… what we thought was coming, we were just _together_ in this way that I guess can't be fully explained now that I think about it. It was kind of like when we were forced to synch back in our very first case, so I guess it has something to do with his empathy. It was like sharing a heart, and I know that neither of us could ever forget it. But we never brought it up, for our own reasons that now I guess were the same, since we'd both felt like the other had discovered something about us that we weren't ready to talk about. He asked me why I couldn't trust him even after experiencing that, though. He looked more surprised that he'd actually said it than I did, and I thought he was going to cry, and then he was gone.

I was in total disbelief after that. I really wished he had just stayed, and then maybe I could have told him right then, because that reaction really seemed… Well, things needed to be fixed, but I didn't really know what to do next. Ah, ahem, I'm not particularly proud of the next part of the story, either, but please forgive me in advance, Tatsumi. I went out and bought myself an apple pie and made a tearful, confused phone call to Watari. He encouraged me to find him, apologize, and confess, as soon as possible. I didn't have the same confidence that that would make everything wonderful again, but I did realize from how it hurt Hisoka that I was keeping something from him, that I needed to fess up, and soon.

Now, knowing Hisoka, I first made a thorough, covert search of the library. Well, I said covert but I did end up getting discovered by the Gushoushin… but they have a sympathetic side when Hisoka is involved, and they told me they'd known he had been here for a while, but he was gone by now. That wasn't altogether too surprising, and I cursed myself for delaying with the pie, but the phone call had actually been reasonably helpful. Okay, so maybe the warm, delicious pie had also been a service in its own way… Ah, anyways, I checked his house, too, but it didn't seem like he'd been in at all.

That was when I was truly stumped for a while. There were few other places he would be; he liked to avoid the blossoming cherry trees, which were my usual place for thought when I was upset. But Hisoka isn't the type to mope, and he would beat himself up for wasting time… Of course, that could only mean that either he'd gone back to the hotel while I'd been gone, or that he'd decided to go see for himself which of us had been right about Adrian Mann.

I regret to say that he hadn't taken the more reasonable route. When I got there, Adrian had discovered him (we later learned that because of his spiritual power he's naturally able to see us in spirit form, like Kazusa) and it seemed like he had the upper hand, even. Not wasting any time, I used a simple binding spell before he'd discovered me, to totally seal any movement. I got Hisoka out of the spell's range, but knocked him over in the process… he was fine though, he just seemed kind of bewildered, and explained that Adrian had known about us all along, and could manipulate emotions using sound, or something like that. It didn't really make sense, but uh… Please don't be mad, Tatsumi. But we agreed that Watari would have a lot of fun figuring out what worked behind a natural ability like that… and that shinigami might benefit from the information our scientist could gain from taking a peek at him before we sent him on for judgment. So really, it was for the good of the department! No, for all of Enmachou!

So, I teleported him back while Hisoka went to lie down back in the hotel room. Watari was shocked and delighted to see me, and promised to take good care of the unhappy guest I'd brought him. As we suspected, he was thrilled at having such a rare human to learn about. He then cornered me about what had happened with Hisoka, and gave me an encouraging slap on the back and the instructions to "go get him, tiger." I love Watari and all, but sometimes he scares me.

Ah, well, I feel like writing the next part might be a little too… um, well, I think Hisoka would kill me. I'm sure you noticed that things are different between us, right? Well, um, yeah, we talked when I went back to the hotel. And things made a lot more sense after that. So yeah! I mean things aren't perfect yet but I'm amazed and shocked and happier than I've been in a while and I really wanted to let you know but we were both kind of still floundering about the whole thing and no time seemed right. I knew Watari was going to crack any day though, so I tried to write this as quickly as I could! And, uh, yeah, looking back I had a lot to say about it.

Oh, right, after that! Watari had gotten some information he was all excited about working with from him, and the next day we sent him on to judgment. So the case is all nicely closed up, too!

**Signature of employee filing report:** Tsuzuki Asato

* * *

><p>Tatsumi stared at the simple, innocent signature marking the end of the report. Different emotions battled to be expressed properly on his face at once. Decidedly, he was overjoyed at the very least from the words "happier than I've been in a while." Not to mention that he'd been expecting something of this sort for longer than he thought most had, being the one best tuned into Tsuzuki's emotions other than Hisoka (although in some ways, more so when it came to certain feelings). He smiled gently as he shut the folder, before taking out a small note from his stack and putting a pen to it in one efficient motion.<p>

_Dear Tsuzuki-san,_

_All casework reports are merely filed by me as the Chief's secretary. Not only does Chief Konoe read them, they also are evaluated at higher levels outside of the division. I just thought I would let you know._

_Best wishes,_

_Tatsumi Seiichirou_

_P.S. Congratulations._

**Fin.**


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